Pokérus
by Multikirby-Chaos7
Summary: A reimagining of the Pokémon games Ruby, Sapphire, and Emerald. A boy moves from Johto to Hoenn and goes on an adventure to collect all eight Gym badges and inherit the Petalburg Gym from his father. Problem: he's sick of Pokémon at the age of twelve. This is a Multikirby production.
1. Chapter 1

**POKÉRUS  
** by Multikirby

 ** _Chapter 1_**

East's ears had been assaulted by the dull roar of an engine for who knows how long, his body vibrating due to the roll of the road. Following a quiet click, a luminescent glow illuminated East's face in the inky darkness as he laid his head back on the furniture boxes. Reflexively, he squinted his eyes and brought his hand up to shield them from the light cast by his PokéGear. Behind him, he could hear his mom humming to herself. He should be up there with her in the front seat. Instead, he was stuck in the back of the moving van, listening to the radio while avoiding shifts in the furniture that might threaten his life. He couldn't even see out of the stupid truck.

When his mom told East they were moving to Hoenn, he hadn't cared much. After all, he wasn't quite sure why they'd been living in Johto to begin with; his dad was a Gym Leader in Petalburg. Why they hadn't lived in Hoenn to start with confused him. What confused him further was that they were, in fact, not even moving to Petalburg. Instead, they were moving to Littleroot, a secluded community one town and two routes away from the city his dad lived in. When he pressed his mom about this, she simply gave a weak excuse about house prices.

Suddenly static attacked his ears, making East cringe. He switched off his PokéGear's radio function; he'd lost connection. Figuring that was the end of his 'inflight entertainment', and with nothing better to do, he laid down on one of the boxes and closed his eyes. That is, until his phone rang.

Grimacing in annoyance, he picked up his PokéGear and put in an earbud before answering the phone.

"...Eustace Erdet speaking," he slurred.

"Hello, Eustace Erdet Speaking, this is dad."

East remained silent.

"I just wanted to know how the road trip's going. How does Hoenn look?"

"I can't see it. I'm in the back of a moving van," said East.

"Oh, that's a real shame," Norman replied. "It's a beautiful place, famous for it's naturalness and connection to nature. Far cry from our vacation to Unova. Remember when we-"

"Dad, I can't see out of the moving van. I'll see Hoenn when I get out."

"...Alright, son. Oh, you're moving to Littleroot, right?"

"Yeah. Arceus knows why."

"Well, one of my friends lives there: Professor Birch."

"Professor...Birch? Wasn't that the name of the professor in Kalos?"

"No, that's Professor Sycamore."

"...Am I going to talk to Birch?"

" _Professor_ Birch. And I'd like you to, yes."

"Why?"

"He's going to give you your first Pokémon!"

"...Goodie."

East raised a hand to his forehead and tried not to groan in disgust. He was doing it again. Except this time he actually had leverage. When he'd lived in Johto, he was too far away from New Bark to talk to Professor Elm for a new Pokémon. In Kanto, all of the Pokémon were taken. And in Unova and Kalos, he was too young. But Hoenn was famous for its 'connection to nature' which was a politically correct way of saying that it was borderline primal. Which meant that these people were probably lawless. Which meant that at best, there wouldn't be an age restriction. At worst, they may hand him an actual apricorn and tell him to go make a Pokéball and capture his starter with it. In their own primal language.

This was going to suck.

"Isn't it great? You can finally take on the Pokémon League challenge and become a Gym Leader like your old man!"

"...Great. What are the choices?" Might as well get this over with.

"There's Treecko, Torchic, and Mudkip."

"Alright. I'll look them up on the way. It'll give me something to do since I can't see outside and I can't listen to the radio."

"Things like this build character, East."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Goodbye."

"Wait, just one more thing."

"What?"

"Birch has a daughter about your age-"

"No way. Don't even think about it."

"Just putting it out there. I'll see you later, East."

"Are you going to be at our house when we arrive?"

"No, sorry. Gym Leader duties."

"...Got it. Bye."

"Bye."

East looked at the PokéGear in his hands, still showing his father's thumbnail. He crawled to the front of the moving truck and rapped on the metal. "Mom, Dad called," he yelled through the metal.

"What'd he say?"

"Welcome stuff," East said passively. "Nothing major."

"Alright. If you say so, honey."

East settled back in his cardboard throne and began searching up the Hoenn starter Pokémon. He didn't want to do this. Being a Pokémon Trainer didn't interest him in the slightest. But his dad was a Gym Leader. Which meant he had to be a Gym Leader, too. He had to raise only Normal-Type Pokémon, he had to beat the Pokémon League challenge, and he had to inherit the Petalburg Gym.

It didn't help that he was already sick of Pokémon.

Sort of a thing that happens when you're completely exposed to all things Pokémon every minute of every day. Pokémon Centers, PokéMarts, Pokémon TV channels, Pokémon battles, Pokémon Super Contests, Pokéathlons, Pokémon Fan Clubs, PokéGears...

East was desensetized to Pokémon at twelve years old.

He huffed and begrudingly checked up on the data of Treecko, Torchic, and Mudkip.

* * *

 _New neighbours,_ she thought excitedly. _We're getting new neighbours!_

Westrose Aurora Solaris Amethyst Birch I rushed around her room, trying to straighten out everything that seemed out of place, and even things that seemed _in_ place.

"Mom! How much time do I have until the neighbours arrive?"

"I don't know, honey," her mother's voice returned from downstairs. "I only know that they're coming today and they're bringing a fancy new-fangled thing called a 'moving van'."

"...'Moving van'?" Westrose repeated. "What's that?"

"I'm not sure, honey. What are you doing up there?"

"Just...making my room really neat! They have a boy my age and I want to make a good impression!"

"Be sure to show him your computer! That might impress him!"

Westrose looked over at her new laptop. She'd gotten it for her birthday a month ago along with a cell phone...from her dad, of course. Her mother and father had opposing statements on technology. While one wouldn't directly contradict the other's wishes, it was useful for Westrose to know which parent to ask for certain things.

Right now, though, she was unsure whether her laptop would impress Norman's son. He was, after all, from Johto. And Norman had told her and her parents many stories about their vacations to such advanced places like Unova over dinner. Surely if he'd been to Unova, he wouldn't be impressed with something like a laptop.

"You sure?" Westrose yelled down.

"Of course! It's a very advanced piece of technology, isn't it?"

"...Eh, not really," Westrose said quietly. "It's just a laptop."

"Sorry?"

"I-I mean, yeah, I'm sure he'll be stunned!" Westrose shook it off quickly and smiled again. This was going to be great! There was nobody else her age in Littleroot. Norman's son would be a great friend! Who knows – she might even get a rival out of him!

Giving her room one last look, Westrose rushed downstairs to straighten out the kitchen. Her mom stepped out of the way of the staircase as Westrose whipped past her.

"What are you doing now?" River asked as she turned to watch her daughter.

Westrose turned back to her mother for only a moment. "I'm straightening out everything."

"You really mean everything, don't you?" River chuckled. "Goodness, where will it end?"

"On an atomic level!" Westrose cheered as she squinted at the hanging pans on the wall. Taking her thumbs and index fingers, she lifted the pan off of the wall about a quarter of an inch before moving it minutely to the left.

River brought her head down to study the newly adjusted pans. "Don't you think you're going...a bit far?"

"No way," Westrose said excitedly. "You only get one chance at a first impression, right? And if Norman's son is going to be my best friend, I've got to get it right, right? Right!"

* * *

East was pushed back into his cardboard seat as the truck stopped. A line of light appeared where the door was. It began to spread as the doors were thrown open. Two Machoke stared at him with rather vacant expressions. East didn't move.

"Come on out, Eustace!"

"In a minute, mom," he said, looking down at his PokéGear as the Machoke stepped in and took two boxes into their arms before walking out of the moving truck. East switched it off, put away his PokéGear, stood up, and walked out of the moving van. He looked up at his mom with an annoyed expression. She only smiled back.

His mother swept her arm out in a grand gesture. "Well, Eustace...welcome to Littleroot, Hoenn!"

As if on cue, a warm breeze swept past East as he stuffed his PokéGear back into the worn pocket on his jeans. He shivered a bit and looked up at his new home.

 _Well...I guess I understand what mom was talking about when she said she moved here because of housing prices..._

It was a rather small two-floor house. His mom had told him that the second floor was all his, which meant that it was incredibly small. He walked through the open door and instantly was hit with a wave of A/C. He cringed and shivered a bit, crossing his left arm across his chest. Once he got over the threshhold, however, the blast of cold air petered out. He had to give Hoenn credit, though: he hadn't expected them to have houses, much less air conditioning. He was rather impressed by the cleanliness of the house, though it was more sparse than clean. Those Machoke were still prancing around, tossing boxes to and fro without a care in the world. They were currently unloading into the living room, blocking off the hallway to the master bedroom. East sighed and settled for investigating the kitchen. Again, it looked sparse, though that was to be expected since they were just moving in. There was the classic white tile, a surprisingly classy marble counter, and two sinks used for washing and drying the dishes. As far as he could tell, though, there was no space for a dishwasher. Which meant _he'd_ be the dishwasher.

Joyous day.

Going to the left of the stove, East saw a plethora of drawers underneath the marble counter. He began checking their contents one by one, eventually coming to the corner. This corner had two drawers near the lip of the counter, on both walls. East curled his hand around a wooden handle and attempted to pull one of two corner drawers open, with the key word being 'attempted'. The drawer seemed to stop about three inches after being pulled out. East frowned and tried yanking the drawer open, but that didn't seem to change anything. It was then that East noticed that the perpendicular drawers were positioned in such a way that the handle of one prevented the other from being opened beyond three inches, destroying the usefulness of both.

"...Terrible design," East grumbled, deciding to abandon the kitchen after seeing some shadowy insect crawling within one of the inaccessible drawers. He resolved, since the Machoke were still bringing boxes into the living room, to go see his luxurious second floor.

East looked up at the stairs to the second floor, and began having second thoughts. They did not look safe in the slightest. Sure, they had a banister. But East felt like he was getting splinters by simply looking at the thing. And that was nothing compared to the actual stairs, if they could be called that. Well...obviously, they could. They weren't unusable, but...

Steeling himself, East clenched his fists and began climbing the stairs. The stairs screamed in pain. Understandably, this wasn't a very comforting sound. He took a deep breath and ran up the staircase. Each tortured screech that erupted from each wooden stair hammered itself into East's brain, nearly making him lose his balance with every step. But somehow he was able to withstand the psychological torture the staircase gave him and reach the second floor.

The smell here was different. Moldy. That wasn't a good sign. He'd have to tell his mother about that later. But at least it was larger than he'd expected.

 _That's why it pays to have low expectations,_ East said with a small grin. _You're never disappointed._

East walked around his room. Unlike the stairs, the floor here didn't creak, yet that musky odour bothered him. He took out his PokéGear and opened a memo.

"...Corner drawers in the kitchen won't open...stairs give tortured wails when stepped upon...weird moldy smell in my room...stupid Machoke won't leave..."

Figuring that was enough for now, East pocketed his PokéGear again, before frowning. He took it out again and went to the radio function. Upon scanning, he found a local easy listening station on FM called Oldale Oldies, and a nationwide Hoenn radio station. The Hoenn news was clear enough, but Oldale Oldies was fuzzy.

"Johto had a way bigger priority on radio," East murmured as he tried to imagine where his furniture could go until he heard the signature shriek of the staircase. Someone was coming up the stairs.

"Mom?" he called, not looking away from a corner he'd designated as the source of the smell.

Only a grunt returned him. East tilted his head back and let out a breath of air. _Stupid Machoke..._

East waited for the pair of Fighting-Types to get to the second floor before walking down the stairs. East plugged his ears as the haunted choir once again sang the song of its people underneath his feet. "Might as well get it over with," he growled as he readied himself before speeding down the stairs. He glared at the stairs, as if doing so would actually scare them into behaving. His mom was unpacking boxes in the kitchen.

"So? How does the Casa del Eustace look?" his mom asked with a smile, gesturing to the second floor.

East shrugged. "It smells moldy."

Her smile faded. "Oh. Well, I'll have to look at it later," she said. "Don't worry, we'll have it fixed."

East nodded. "The Machoke are unpacking upstairs. What do I do while they do that?"

"Well, you could tour the rest of the house."

"Not interested."

"Ah. Maybe you could-"

East's mom was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Eustace, could you get that, please?" his mom asked. "I'm still unpacking the kitchen."

He was walking towards the door anyways. "Yeah, sure." He turned the doorknob and pushed it open.

In the doorway stood a very jolly, very big man. His open labcoat billowed in the breeze that floated through Littleroot, though part of it was pinned down by his fists on his hips. On his scraggly square face was a wide grin as he towered over the twelve-year-old boy.

"So you must be East!" he said, holding out a large blocky hand. "My name's Professor Birch. I'm friends with your father!"

East frowned. His dad had told Birch his nickname. Why would he do that? "Yes, I know."

"So he's told you about me, then?" he asked as he bent down to try to get on eye level with East.

East rolled his eyes. "No, he hasn't. I just say 'yes, I know' to anything that anyone says to me."

Birch gave East a confused look. Then his grin returned and opened, and he gave a very hearty laugh, slapping East on the shoulder. This threatened to make him keel over, so he stepped away.

"Well, hey, glad to see you're settling in alright," Birch said happily, as if he'd never stepped away in the first place. "You know, I have a daughter. She's been dying to meet you ever since she heard you were moving in!"

...A daughter? Oh, great. Just great. "...Dad told me."

"Yeah! If you want, I can take you over to meet her."

He shook his head. "If I'm going to meet someone new, I'd prefer it be on my own terms rather than someone else's."

Professor Birch fell silent for a minute. "Well, alright. If you change your mind, we're right next door," he said as he stepped back from the door.

East nodded as he stepped out as well. "I think I'm going to go take a look around Littleroot."

Birch's smile returned. "I could show you around, if you want."

"No thanks," East declined. "I'll go myself."

"Alright," he said. "I'll see you around, then, East!" He waved and walked back to his house.

East sighed. "A daughter," he mumbled. "They have a daughter."


	2. Chapter 2

**POKÉRUS  
** by Multikirby

 _ **Chapter 2**_

Westrose was studying each crack and imperfection in her front door as she waited in agonizing anticipation for it to swing open by its hinges, signaling the arrival of her new neighbour and friend. Her eyes drifted up and down the painted wooden door as she looked for details she may not have noticed the first seven times she scanned it.

When her dad had heard that Norman's family was moving to Littleroot, he'd ordered that the house be given a complete overhaul. Of course, nothing was wrong with the house before, but these people were from _Johto._ Only the best would impress them. And to Birch, 'the best' meant a new coat of paint on the door. With her discerning eye, Westrose had already found four imperfections. Specifically, four fingerprint marks where her mother had tried to push the door open as the paint was drying.

 _Well,_ Westrose thought. _He isn't going to be looking that closely anyways. Right?_

After searching again and again for flaws in the door, Westrose finally just sat down in the dining room and watched it. She didn't mean to be so obsessed about Norman's son, but her life leading up to this point hadn't been too monumental. Most of her day-to-day activities consisted of helping out her dad with field research or helping her mom with volunteer work around Littleroot. This wasn't a lot, so having someone her age living right next door was a dream come true for her. Since she had first found out about having a new neighbour, Westrose's mind had been all but one hundred percent dedicated to thinking up schemes and plans she could put into action along with Norman's son.

Her mom had told her multiple times that it wasn't good to have her expectations so high that they couldn't realistically be fulfilled. But boredom and hope seemed a funny combination, and thoughts of adventures with Norman's son began to fester in Westrose's mind until they were just above the threshold of plausibility. She had recognized this multiple times, and every time she caught it she was able to tone down her hopes to an agreeable level.

This was not one of those times.

Westrose fidgeted impatiently, waiting for the door to move. The anticipation was killing her. Her mom sat down beside her.

"You're practically vibrating, Westrose," she said with a small chortle. "Calm down."

Westrose grimaced. "I'm sorry, but I've been waiting for this moment for, like...I don't even know how long!" she nearly shouted.

River placed a hand on Westrose's back and began to stroke her. "I know it's hard living in a small town like this. There aren't many people your age."

"There aren't _any_ people my age, mom," Westrose interjected. "But I've been running this over in my mind for a long time. I don't want to come on too strong. I don't want to smother him. So I'm going to try to play it cool."

"...Play it cool?" repeated River. "What do you mean?"

Westrose didn't take her eyes off of the door. "Y'know, act like it isn't a big deal that he's here, that I only sort of care."

"Why don't you try being nice?"

"Nice?" Westrose scoffed. "Nice doesn't win you friends, mom! Well, yeah, it does, but you can't be nice all the time or else you come off as creepy."

River chuckled again. "Things sure have changed from when I was a kid."

Westrose took a deep breath. "I just hope all of my thinking and obsessing won't mess this up," she said. "That's my biggest worry. That I'll creep him out."

"You're overthinking it, honey," River comforted, folding her hands on the table. "Just be yourself and I'm sure it'll be fine."

Westrose nodded after a bit of hesitation. "You're right. I'll just play it by ear." She began taking deep breaths to calm down. Being obsessed would skew the way she acted around him. And she couldn't have that.

The doorknob began to jiggle. Westrose's heart jumped up into her throat. It was happening! It was really happening! Norman's son was coming in!

"I'm home!" Birch called.

West groaned.

"Is Eustace with you?" River asked as she stood up to greet her husband.

He shook his head. "No, he wanted to explore Littleroot by himself."

Westrose's jaw dropped. "Wait...so he's not coming here?"

"Not yet," Birch said as he hung up his coat. "Oh, hey, West! Today's the day that I'm giving East his starter like Norman asked. You want to be there for it?"

"You kidding?" she laughed. "I wouldn't miss it! But...I'm going to go out."

River looked up at her with an amused expression. "You're going to look for Eustace, aren't you?"

"What?" Westrose got up from the table. "No way! I'm just gonna...um...bye!"

She ran past her dad and jerked the door open, dashing through it into Littleroot Town.

* * *

East walked down the streets of Littleroot with his hands shoved in his pocket. Upon actually getting to the heart of town, he had to admit to himself that Littleroot was slightly more civilized than he had given it credit for. For one thing, everyone surrounding him was wearing a full set of clothes. And nothing like sashes or togas. They were honest to goodness T-shirts and jeans and sundresses and such. He also recognized what his dad had said when he'd talked about Hoenn being closer to nature. East felt like he'd seen more verdance in the first ten minutes of touring Littleroot than he had his entire life in Johto. The air quality was much better here than it had been there, too. East didn't want to assume just yet that all of Hoenn was like this, because it probably wasn't. But as far as Littleroot went, it seemed healthier, at least.

Of course, all of this came at a price. For the life of him, East could not see any paved roads of any sort. It was all dirt and worn paths. For that matter, he hadn't seen any vehicles past three or four fold-up bikes. Nothing motorized. East supposed that was why the air was so crisp, and yet he figured it would be incredibly annoying to have to walk everywhere in Littleroot.

Not that there was much to bother walking to.

There truly wasn't much in Littleroot, and though that seemed to fit the residents just fine, East visualized himself quickly becoming bored here.

Each step East took stirred up a small cloud of dust as he shuffled his feet across the path. The grass on either side waved gently in the fresh breeze that blew past each slender blade. This same breeze piloted the cotton-ball clouds on their lazy journey across the sky, occasionally blotting out the bright orange sun that shone down warm rays to cover the town. The ambience of lively conversation and laughter mixed with that of singing birds and wind-blown leaves. Looking to the side of the path, East saw a young boy playing with a Pokémon he didn't recognize. It was pink, and looked somewhat like a Purrloin. This Pokémon, however, looked more playful than sinister, and was currently chasing its strangely shaped tail in a circle, mewling excitedly.

 _It's quiet,_ East thought. _It doesn't really look like there's much to do here. Great._

With nothing better to fill his time, East occupied himself with the facts he'd looked up on the Hoenn starter Pokémon in the moving van. He'd spent precious roaming data loading those pages. It occured to East suddenly that he wouldn't be able to use his PokéGear in Hoenn until his dad got him a new data plan. He'd have to go to Petalburg to arrange that as soon as possible; he didn't want to go without his radio any longer than necessary, and if he was going to get his radio past the Hoenn news channel, he'd need internet.

 _But for now,_ East interrupted himself. _Treecko, Torchic, Mudkip. Three element-manipulating creatures, one of which will be under your control._

If he was going to undergo the Pokémon League challenge like his father wanted, he'd have to think about which order he'd tackle the gyms. His father's was definitely closest, but East did not want to go up against Norman yet. He didn't want to go up against his father at all, but of course, he had no choice in the matter. If he chose Mudkip, he could use it to swim across the water to Mauville to take on Watson. If he trained it well enough, it'd learn some Ground-Type moves to take down his Electric Pokémon rather easily. Treecko, he thought, could take down Roxanne pretty easily. But Absorb, his only Grass-Type move for a while, had rather low base power. East doubted it'd do too well. Not only that, but he had a sparse moveset for the first levels, which meant he'd have to catch other Pokémon to pull its weight. So Treecko was out. How about Torchic? It evolves pretty early, and would learn some cool Fighting-Type moves to boot. But that would require a lot of training before facing Roxanne, and Watson would be out since he couldn't get across water. So though Torchic was a good runner-up, he was probably going to go for Mudkip.

 _Good, that's finally settled,_ East sighed. _I'm signing my life away with a pen named 'Mudkip'._

"Hey!" a voice behind him called. "Hey! Wait!"

East stopped in his tracks. Who would that be? It wasn't anyone he recognized. And who in this town other than Birch would call him like that?

...Oh, Arceus.

Echoing footsteps grew louder in East's ears as his pursuer caught up to him. He didn't want to turn his head. He really didn't. But he knew that he'd have to at some point. He couldn't just stand here and wait for her to go away. But he wouldn't give in. He wouldn't turn.

That didn't seem to be a problem as a girl walked in front of him, smiling widely. "Hi!" she said cheerily.

East brought his head back so that he could look at her better. She was wearing shorts, with what looked almost like a utility belt holding them up against her hips. A bright red T-shirt bearing a Pokéball pattern adorned her chest, with her light brown hair coming down before curling at her shoulders. Her green eyes shone brightly with some sort of emotion that East couldn't exactly pinpoint.

"You're the guy who just moved in today, right?" the girl continued, clasping her hands behind her back.

Again East said nothing. He didn't really want to engage in conversation with anyone, much less her. Especially if she was who he thought she was.

She bit her lip a bit, trying to find something to say. "...My name is Westrose Aurora Solaris Amethyst Birch the First. You can call me Westrose," she said, sticking out her hand.

"...That's your name?" East said dully. Of course, internally, East choked. That was the most absurd name he'd ever heard in his life, and it took a fair amount of willpower to keep from bursting out laughing. Because that'd be rude.

"Yeah. You can call me Westrose!" She jerked her hand slightly, waiting for a handshake.

East didn't oblige. "I'm not calling you that."

Westrose blinked. "Um...Okay. What do you want to call me? A nickname or something?"

Arceus, this girl was forward. Thirty seconds in and she was already asking for a nickname. He'd said he wouldn't be calling Westrose 'Westrose' because he wasn't intending to call her anything. His plans for life in Littleroot would be listening to the radio in his room with the lights off, not going out and socializing with people who have five names. "It's a weird name."

"Well, I guess," Westrose said with a small laugh. "I mean, I don't think Westrose is even an actual rose. My mom just thought it sounded pretty, so that's the name she gave me."

"I'm not calling you Westrose," he repeated.

Westrose gave a nonchalant shrug. "That's okay. What will you call me, then?"

Goodness, there it was again. East sighed. If he wanted to actually get away from this girl, he'd have to come up with some sort of nickname. What would work? Something insulting, to keep her away from him?...No, that wasn't wise. She was Birch's daughter. If he insulted her, he'd have hell to pay for it. So it had to be neutralish. But it still had to be sort of detached. East didn't want her getting all buddy-buddy just because he gave her a nickname. But what could it be? What sort of name...?

 _Screw it._

"West," he mumbled.

* * *

West?

She thought she was doing a good job of concealing it, but Westrose felt like she was about to explode. This was him. This was _East._ And she said that her nickname should be _West._ East. West.

 _Is he trying to say something with that?_ West wondered, before mentally slapping herself. _Lower your expectations!_

"You're going to call me West, then?" she said, crossing her arms.

East stared at her without saying anything for what felt like forever. It was probably just her mind stretching out the time between sentences, though. "...Did I stutter?"

Before she knew what she was doing, Westrose – _West_ , she told herself – began laughing. "No, you didn't. West it is, then!" She wondered whether it was reasonable to say that she and East were friends yet. Probably not. She figured she should let him introduce himself first. "What can I call you?"

East opened his mouth, then shut it again. His eyes hid a sudden flash of realization. "Eustace," he said flatly. "I don't know what your dad told you about me, but you're going to call me Eustace, got it?"

West blinked. _Well, there goes that theory,_ she sighed. She realized that she was coming off as disappointed. That wouldn't do! She perked up. "Alright, Eustace."

He gave a curt nod, and without another word, continued past her down the path. West, after a moment's hesitation, turned around and walked after him.

East didn't seem to notice at first. "...What are you doing?" he asked lowly.

Guess he did notice.

"Walking with you," West said. "Why, is that bad?"

"Yes."

"...Oh." West scuffed the ground awkwardly, then looked back up at East. "Why's that?"

East stopped and turned to her. "Look, I don't know what kind of person you are, but I enjoy being alone, okay?"

"Yeah, I get like that too, sometimes," West agreed. "I just feel like I need to get away from everything. 'Course, it's easy in Hoenn – there isn't a lot of 'everything' to get away from!"

East didn't give any sign that he'd heard her.

"So, uh...How's Littleroot?" West asked. To be honest, this wasn't going exactly as expected. It was harder to have a conversation with East than her dad had let on, but she was sure she'd get through to him eventually. All she had to do was keep pressing forward and eventually she'd break the barrier.

"I don't understand why Birch put his lab here," said East as he began walking again. "There's nothing in this town to support it."

"Oh, well, my dad's a field researcher," West said, catching up with him. "He does a lot of work...well...in the field. I remember one time I had to rescue him from attacking Poochyena. But he studies the behaviour of Pokémon in their natural habitat. It's actually really interesting!"

"...Field researcher...?" East echoed.

* * *

 _D_ _ang it,_ _I_ _should not have repeated that. Now_ _I'm_ _invested in the conversation. There_ _'s_ _no turning back._

"Yeah! I go out to help him all the time!" said West. "Last time we went all the way to Petalburg Woods and studied Wurmple cocooning habits. Did you know they actually spin cocoons _before_ the evolution process? It's like they're practicing! You can actually tell whether they'll evolve into a Cascoon or a Silcoon by looking at the preliminary 'practice' cocoons. We don't know why they do it, but they actually hide them pretty well. Maybe it's like a ritual."

Arceus, what was she talking about? Weedle? East had zoned out after she'd said the word 'Petalburg'. He didn't say anything in retaliation, causing West to fall silent herself. Finally she took a breath, signalling to East that she was going to speak again. Wonderful.

"Hey, you're getting your first Pokémon today, right?" she asked. "From my dad."

East gave a slow subtle nod, not really excited enough to verbalize it.

"Hey, Eustace! Why don't I get mine with you?" West continued. "I actually haven't had a Pokémon of my own before, and I think it'd be really fun if we could raise our Pokémon together!"

...So that's what was happening. East was only getting a Pokémon because his dad was forcing him to take the Pokémon League challenge. Norman probably knew that East did not like the idea, and figured he'd flake off the first chance he got. So he moved his family to Hoenn, where his friend had a daughter East's age. That's why East didn't get a Pokémon anywhere else. It wasn't because of an age restriction...it was so that West could keep tabs on him and make sure he didn't abandon the challenge. West would get a Pokémon and undergo the same challenge he was taking. No doubt Norman had already talked to her about keeping East on track. That's why she wanted to talk to East in the first place. Get to know him. See how he works so that if he wanted to defect she'd know how to force his hand just like his old man.

West was a chaperone.

"...Sure," East said quietly. If he knew his dad at all, he knew there was no way he was getting out of this. It'd be a storm of passive-aggressive nonsense until East finally caved. "Let's go."

West's face brightened. "Really? You'll...yes!" she cheered and took East's hand before running down the path. East tried to wrest his hand free of her grip, but for a girl she had strong fingers.

"So have you decided what Pokémon you're going to pick?" West asked. "It'd better not be the same as mine!"

East would not engage her. He wouldn't give her the pleasure. She was his chaperone, not his friend.

"I'm not sure who I'm getting, actually," West confessed as she slowed down to a more comfortable pace. "I might actually just choose at random!"

"Mmm," East said as he saw a white building rise up in front of him. Was this Birch's lab?

"This is it! My dad's lab!" West said happily.

...Of course.

West let go of East's hand – finally – and headed inside, stopping to invite East in. Reluctantly, he obliged.

The laboratory definitely had a smell to it. It had a clean, sterile smell, like a hospital. That, however, was where the cleanliness ended. Fluorescent lights buzzed noisily above East's head, and a few lone bulbs even flickered. There were strange machines strewn about the floor, all of which were clicking and whirring in their own private, dissonant melody. Also strewn about the floor, in a much larger quantity, were papers. Goodness, there were so many papers East wasn't quite sure whether a floor was even beneath them. Lab assistants, all with white coats and thick glasses darted to and fro in the laboratory. They all seemed incredibly busy, and yet nobody actually seemed to be doing anything beyond running around frantically. It was a very disorganized hectic atmosphere.

East didn't like it.

West waved to him through a choke point made by two colourful centrifuge devices. "My dad's waiting for us!"

* * *

West watched East through the gap as he slowly made his way towards him. This was it! This was the day that she'd begin her journey, and get a rival!

Trembling with excitement, West walked up to her dad, who was standing beside a very techish table with three opaque capsules. These three capsules contained three Pokéballs, which contained three Pokémon, which contained unlimited possibility.

 _C'mon, Eustace, hurry up!_ West willed. _I wanna battle you!_

Eventually he reached the table. He gripped his right arm with his left hand as Birch began to talk.

"Well...this is it! You two are about to go on a journey that will shape who you are as a person!" he said majestically. "You'll face hardships, but I know with strength, perseverence, and of course, teamwork, I'm sure you'll do just fine! But first..." Birch clicked a button on the side of the table. The capsules unfolded with a hiss as the three Pokéballs rose up.

"Choose a-"

East suddenly reached out and grabbed the leftmost one before sprinting out of the laboratory, leaving two dumbfounded Birches standing alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**POKÉRUS**  
by Multikirby

 _ **Chapter 3**_

"Did he just...?" Birch stared in an odd mixture of awe and shock as the doors to the laboratory slowly swung shut.

West could only nod dumbly. She had no idea why East had bolted. After all, these Pokémon were gifts. They were free. So why did he make off like he stole one?

"Should I...?" West looked out the door, then back at the Pokéballs. "Um..."

"Well, it's your choice, West," Birch said. "But go ahead and choose your Pokémon first."

She nodded and looked at the two smooth metal balls on the table. In one of these red and white spheres was her lifelong partner. Through thick and thin, day and night, she and her partner would stay side by side, working together to overcome any challenge life decided to throw at her, growing up in perfect tandem. Inside one of these balls was a lifelong friend. But she could only choose one of them.

West looked up at her father, trying to play it cool, despite being essentially deaf due to the blood roaring in her ears. Birch returned an expectant grin.

Though as it turned out, West had been lying to herself. She had told herself for the longest time that this would be an amazing and monumental moment. And sure, it was. But that wasn't what she was feeling now. It was what she _wanted_ to feel. But what she was feeling was quite different. She felt terrified. Wracked with foreboding predictions and crippling self-doubt, her brain tortured her with worst-case scenarios. What if they hated her? What if she let them down? What if she accidentally traded them away? Would she be so ditzy as to do that? What if _she_ didn't like _them?_ Could that happen?

The young girl closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to dispel the venomous thoughts. Everything would be okay.

 _Just follow what you already know,_ she told herself. _Your future's right here, but it's what you make it, West._

With a new resolve,Westrose opened her eyes and beheld the choice once more. She extended an arm, curled her fingers around a sleek metalsphere, and made her choice.

* * *

 _Why did I do that?_

East stood outside the lab, dumbfounded at his own actions. He stared at the Pokéball in his hand as the reality of what had happened sunk in. He had potentially blew it. There was a two in three chance that he had flubbed his choice and gotten something other than Mudkip. He did not like those odds.

"Well...let's end this," he sighed. "Go...whoever you are."

He nonchalantly tossed the ball towards the ground. In a white flash of light, a Pokémon emerged from the Pokéball, blinking his eyes in the sunlight. Looking around, bewildered, he eventually turned around to face East. Its lobed tail held upright, the small green reptile toddled towards East, eyes wide with curiosity.

"...Treecko," he sighed. "Shouldn't have expected any less..."

The Treecko tilted its head and walked towards East slowly. In retaliation, East backed up a bit.

"...Look, I don't know what you think this is," he said slowly. "But it isn't going to be what you were thinking, cooped up in that ball."

As far as East knew, Pokémon were intelligent beings, and understood human speech. And at this stage, he sincerely hoped that was the case, otherwise it would mean he looked like a complete idiot.

The Treecko's gaze went from East to the Pokéball in his hand, then back to East.

"Okay, okay, I know what this looks like. But it isn't what you're thinking."

Treecko gave him a skeptical look and crossed his arms.

"...Return," he said and held up the Pokéball. A red beam came from the button in the center and enveloped Treecko, bringing him back into the ball.

East slumped down against the lab wall, placing the ball on the ground beside him. He groaned and rested his face in his hands.

He'd chosen Treecko. On accident.

The doors to the lab swung open, and West stepped out. "East! Where are you – oh."

"Don't talk to me. I'm in a bad mood."

"Oh, nonsense! You just got your Pokémon! How can you be in a bad mood?"

"West, do you know what an oxymoron is?"

"Um..." West made a face. "No, I don't. What is it?"

East looked up at her. "What about 'juxtaposition'?"

"...I don't know that either."

East rolled his eyes. "What are up and down, and in and out?"

"Oh! Antonyms!"

"...Opposites."

"Psh, same thing."

After a few seconds of absolute silence, East got up and began walking away.

West, realizing this, ran after him. "Hey, where are you going?"

"Home," he said. "I have no reason to be outside."

"Wait, wait, wait! I have to give you something!" West protested, still running after him.

East sighed and stopped. "Alright, fine. What is it?"

West crossed her arms. "Turn around, first."

East slowly turned to face West. "What?"

With a rather proud expression, she held out two red rectangular machines. Upon them was an LCD screen, two green buttons, and a spinner with a Pokéball pattern. Upon the screen was the word 'POKÉDEX'.

"...Is this a joke?"

* * *

...Joke?

A light breeze blew past West as she stared at East in silence. Her expression was frozen as her brain tried to process what he'd meant by 'joke'.

" _What did he say?!" Captain West hollered, staring at the visual feed._

" _Joke!" Private West affirmed. "He said the Pokédex was a joke!"_

" _Alright, uh...um...Private! Look up all possible definitions and connotations of the word 'joke'!" Captain West commanded._

" _On it!"_

" _I'm gonna rage on him so hard..." Corporal West growled, her hands hovering over the communicator keyboard._

" _Don't you dare jump to conclusions!" Captain West scolded. "Remember, he's our number one candidate for best friend!"_

 _Private West blinked and looked up from the filing cabinet. "I thought that was our Pokémon."_

" _Lifelong partners and lifelong friends are two totally different and completely overlapping things!" Captain West said quickly._

" _Uh...I found all possible definitions and connotations." The private walked back with a stack of papers, leafing through them. She cringed. "Things aren't looking good..."_

" _What?! Let me see those!" The captain snatched the stack from her, and flipped through the sheets herself. "...Ooh..."_

" _That's it! I'm raging!" Corporal West roared._

" _Wait, DON'T-"_

"A joke?!" West's mouth hung open. "Are you calling the legendary Professor Oak's lifelong work a joke!? This is a Pokédex, a multifunctional Pokémon encyclopedia! It allows you to closely analyze every single Pokémon in your possession, getting to know them on a level people didn't think possible ten years ago, and you call it a joke?!"

"...They made a Pokédex app three years ago," East said, holding up his PokéGear.

"...An...app?" West squinted at his smartphone. "...What's an app? And what is that?"

East shook his head and sighed. "...It's a PokéGear. A phone."

That was a phone? West took out her own flip phone and studied it, before looking back at the alleged 'PokéGear'. "It...looks like a PokéNav."

"I don't know what that is."

West's face brightened a bit. Laptop, shmaptop, _this_ would definitely impress East! "The PokéNav is a navigational system developed by the Devon Corporation. You can use it to track possible rematches, as a map, monitor your Pokémon's Super Contest attributes, and display any ribbons you've won! Mr. Stone worked with my dad, too, so the attribute function is now on the Pokédex. But now, they're making a new version called the PokéNav Plus, which lets you play and train with your Pokémon virtually, scan routes for special Pokémon, and watch the news!"

"Well, I can do almost all of that on my-"

* * *

 _I don't have data._

East looked at the girl in front of him, the girl trying so obviously to impress him. His original plan was to shut her down, but now he was seeing another plan that would give him data access in Hoenn.

The problem was, he'd dug himself a hole, and he had to get out of it.

"On your what?" West asked.

"Hold on. What exactly can this Pokédex do again?"

West rolled her eyes. "Display data on Pokémon and monitor the progress of your own, among other things."

"Okay, and what about that Pokémap extra? Where do you get it?"

"PokéNav Plus," West corrected. "It's in Rustboro, at the Devon Corporation. It's still in development, though."

East once again looked at the Pokédex. He knew that his dad would force him on this journey anyways. And West was there to prove it. But he didn't want to give in. Taking that Pokédex was like giving in – it was giving the signal that he would do it. And he was finding it very hard to sacrifice his pride like that.

But some things were more important than his pride. And he wasn't about to go begging to his dad for a new data plan. That would require talking to him. And he didn't want to do that anytime soon.

East found himself staring at the Pokédexes in West's hands. This device meant more than just an encyclopedia. Taking it would mean giving in to the destiny laid out for him already. Taking it would mean giving up his future for someone else to mold. Taking it would mean giving absolutely no cares to what he wanted.

But some things were more important.

With a long pause, East's hand reached out and went to take the Pokédex. But at the last second, West yanked it away.

"First say you're sorry."

East glared at her. "...For what?"

West pursed her lips as she tried to find something to persecute East with. "...Being rude."

Silently, East put his index finger and thumb to his temples and rubbed them gently. "...I'm sorry for being rude."

"Good boy."

"Just give me the machine."

West smirked a bit and held out a Pokédex. East took it and shoved it in his pocket.

"Alright!" West cheered. "Now that you have your Pokédex, we can battle!"

"...What?"

* * *

"You heard me!" West said, her fingers playing over the Pokéball on her belt. She was itching to get going – she'd seen battles loads of times, and was pretty sure she could cream East, gym leader's kid or not. Though if he beat her, that'd be cool, too. They'd be rivals!

"...Hold on a second," East said and took out his Pokédex. He fiddled with the buttons a bit, and pulled out his Pokéball. He stared at the screen for a while, studying it. Then he put it away. "Alright, fine. Let's get this over with."

West bent her knees, and twisted her bright red bandana backwards. Winding up her throwing arm, she took a deep breath. "C'mon out, Chris, I need you!"

Bringing her arm forward, the Pokéball whizzed through the air before making contact with the dusty ground. A bright light burst from the ball as a Pokémon took form. A bright orange chick stood on the dirt path, looking back at West before facing his competitor.

East stood there, motionless. "...Chris?"

"Y'know, Chris!" West said. "As in...crispy? Crispy...like cooked?"

East stayed silent. "...Go, Treecko," he said, literally dropping the ball at his feet. Treecko came out quickly as the ball bounced back to East's hand. He stepped back. Treecko stood ready in front of East, waiting for a command.

"Um...who's going first?" West asked.

East crossed his arms. "I honestly don't care. It won't really make a difference, since one of us is going to pound the other."

"Okay, let me get-" West stopped when she saw Treecko running up towards a hapless Chris. Jumping up in the air, he flipped before bringing his large bulky tail down on the Torchic. "Hey! What are you doing?!"

East merely shrugged. "I told him to use Pound."

"No, you didn't! You just..." West balled her fists up. "Gah! Chris! Torch him with Ember!"

The young bird got to his feet once Treecko came off of him and began making a low gutteral sound as a flame began to ball up in front of his beak. Keeping his sights on Treecko, he prepared to launch his attack.

West noticed that East was closely studying Chris and herself, almost more than he was looking at his own Pokémon. It unnerved her a bit. "...Go!"

Torchic launched the Ember towards East's Pokémon, and without an order to direct him with, Treecko suffered a direct super-effective hit. Giving a cry of pain, he staggered backwards, holding his chest.

"Treecko. Leer," East commanded.

Still holding his chest, Treecko looked up from his wound to meet Chris's gaze. His large yellow eyes suddenly became very chilling and cold, penetrating the aggressive front Chris had put up. The intensity of the stare caused the Torchic's stance to weaken, and he began to tremble.

"Ember, go!" West said, attempting to snap him out of it.

The Pokémon tried to charge up another fireball, yet try as he might, he couldn't break the frightening gaze of his injured opponent. He took another step back.

East rested his arms at his sides. "Pound."

Finally breaking the gaze, Treecko began running up towards the chick, who was frantically trying to create some sort of heat to stave off his approaching attacker with.

Another jump and quick spin of the tail, and the battle was over. Wasting no time, East held out his Pokéball and brought Treecko back into it before attaching the ball to his belt.

"H-how did...?" West stammered. "I had the advantage! Fire's strong against Grass!"

East shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes glinting. "Apparently you proved that wrong."

West ran over to Chris, who had been launched away during the final attack. She slipped her arms under him, lifting him up carefully. "Don't blame yourself. You did a good job...don't worry, we'll get better."

Gently, she touched the Pokéball to his head, and the Torchic was enveloped in a red glow, before dissolving into the ball.

Standing up, West turned to East and stuck out her hand. "Good battle, East! You did really – rude!"

East was gone.

* * *

"Yeah. Yeah, I got one," East said, cupping the receiver with his right hand. "Treecko...Treecko. I chose Treecko. Look, the home phone is terrib...I said it's terrible. Just hang up, dad, I'll call you later. Yeah, I promise...Yes, I promise, I promise...I promise, I pro...goodbye, dad."

East hung up, and massaged his temples. "...How long were you talking with him before I came in, exactly?" he asked his mother, who was putting away dishes in the kitchen.

"Oh, only five minutes or so," she said. "First thing he asked was whether you were in. He's excited, you know!"

"...Trust me. I'm familiar with how he feels about this," East said, giving a dirty look to the phone on the wall as if his dad was receiving it instead.

East's mom turned to him and put a hand on her hip. "What were you doing out there, anyways? When you left here, you said you were only going back for a walk, and you come back with a Pokémon!"

"Birch's kid intercepted me and brought me to the lab," he said. "Nothing more."

"Did you get along with-"

"Don't be ridiculous," East said, leaning against the wall. "She's a walking fairy tale girl. All sunshine and rainbows."

"Usually people find that a desirable trait," East's mom said with a small smile.

East walked over to the stairs. "It's delusional, that's what it is. Are the Machoke gone?"

"They finished unpacking a while ago."

"Then I'm going to my room," he said. "I want to unpack my stuff."

East's mom smiled. "That's my boy...so proactive! Don't have too much fun up there!"

East said nothing and climbed up the stairs, cringing from each and every tortured wail. He'd forgotten about those...upon surfacing on the second floor, his olfactory senses were once again blasted with the stale smell. What was that stuff...? Whatever it was, the Machoke hadn't gotten rid of it. East didn't feel like complaining, so he'd have to get used to it. Walking to a box, he dragged it over to the desk the Machoke had unpacked, and looked around for an electrical outlet. He found one, but...

"What the...?" he mumbled, staring at the hole in the wall. It was a plugin, but the pattern was completely different. There was no way any of his chargers would fit that.

"Hey, mom, the plugs are different," East called down.

"We have converters, but I'm using them to cook right now!" she called back.

Great. That meant he couldn't use his desktop. That meant he couldn't access the internet.

East got up from the ground and trudged to his bed, flopping down on the frame. The bed made sure to show its discomfort at this action by shrieking at him. Taking out his phone, he reached into his bag and pulled out headphones. Putting them in with his right hand, his left scrolled through the PokéGear, looking for something to listen to. Finding something adequate, he tapped a playlist he'd made earlier, and rested his head on the dusty smelling pillow. He closed his eyes and listened, trying to convince himself that he was back home, in Johto.


	4. Chapter 4

**POKÉRUS**  
by Multikirby

 _ **Chapter 4**_

West stared at the empty space East had once occupied. Stunned into silence, her hand shook as she gripped her Pokéball. She bit her lip before it had the chance to tremble.

"Where did I go wrong...?" she whispered to herself. "What did I do...?"

Realizing she was squeezing her Pokéball, West sighed and loosened her grip. She raised it to her face and looked at it, as if it was going to tell her exactly how she screwed up.

But she knew it wouldn't give her any answers. She'd have to answer those questions for herself.

Her knees buckled without warning or reason, and West fell to the ground. Her eyes began to sting as her gaze drifted to the dirt path below her. She hiccuped as her vision blurred. East was her one chance. And she'd blown it. She'd blown it big time, and there was no way to recover from something like this.

East hated her. West was sure of it. And the worst part was she had no idea why. What had she done?

She had lost a friend, that's what she'd done.

West pushed herself to her feet. She couldn't just stay here moping like this. There had to be a way around this. It would be hard to undo her mistakes, especially considering she didn't know which mistakes she'd committed. Maybe that was where she should start.

Dusting herself off, West wiped her eyes and walked back home, in deep thought.

* * *

At some point, East had pulled his covers over him. He'd stopped paying attention at some point, simply staring somberly at the sloped ceiling. He suddenly realized that he might have zoned out, and snatched up his phone in annoyance. Staring at the track title, he groaned and began pressing the BACK button over and over.

As he did so, he looked around at his room. He'd thought it was the entire second floor, but upon truly inspecting it, he realized that wasn't true. It was about half the size of the first floor. That was honestly fine with him – what would he do with a room the size of a flat? No, what bothered him was the extremely low ceiling.

Perhaps 'extreme' was a bit much, however. He wasn't crawling on all fours to get around. But he could only stand up straight in the center meter-and-a-half of the room. After that, the roof sloped too much and he had to crouch a bit. Perhaps that was why the room didn't take up the entire second floor. If it stretched out much more, he _would_ have to crawl to get to certain parts of his room.

Currently, East wasn't worrying about that. He'd already done all of his allocated room-worrying when he first walked up the stairs. Arceus, those things were like listening to an elementary-school choir. They almost made him afraid to walk down to the first floor.

He'd gone back to where he'd drifted off on his playlist, and began to listen again. At that exact moment, the stairs announced that somebody was coming. Annoyed, East yanked out his earbuds and rolled his head towards the stairwell. His mom poked her head out, looking at East with that naive smile of hers before coming up the rest of the way. Naturally, since she was taller than East, she didn't have the luxury of standing at full height in the middle of the room.

"Well?"

"...Well, what?"

"A little bird told me that you had your first battle!"

East was silent for a moment. "...Yeah. So?"

"So?" East's mom echoed. "How can you say that? This is a pivotal moment in your life!"

"...If you say so."

"Who was it with?"

"Birch's daughter."

"What Pokémon did she use?"

"Torchic."

"Did you win?"

"Yes."

"How close was it?"

"Dunno."

"...Dunno?"

"Yes."

"How can you not know how close it was?"

"Dunno."

East's mom drew her lips into a thin line. "Well, don't get _too_ excited," she said flatly.

East merely shrugged. "...Sorry?"

"Well, dinner's ready. Come and get it."

East sighed. "Alright, I'll be down in a minute."

More of those wonderful stairwell songs heralded his mother's leaving. East put his earbuds back in. He'd listen to the end of this-

East bit his lip. He'd forgotten to pause the playlist, and now he'd have to rewind once again. Deciding it was more effort than it was worth, he rolled off of his bed and got ready for dinner.

* * *

West wasn't hungry. This was common when she was thinking hard about something. What wasn't common was her thinking hard about something.

"Westrose? Are you alright, honey?" River asked, putting down her spoon of mashed potatoes onto the plate.

West barely heard her. She was too busy thinking hard about something.

She was running the day through over and over, from the moment she met East to the moment she left him. And she was beginning to get something. Not entirely. But she was devising a plan. West smiled a little bit. Maybe this wasn't over. Maybe she could undo her mistakes and make a friend out of East yet.

She picked up her spoon and began shoveling down her meal. It wasn't hard, as it was River's turn to cook, and therefore, was vegan slop. She finished it off quickly and brought her plate to the sink to wash it. There was no time to waste.

"What's going on with you, Westrose?" Birch asked. In River's words, he was taking his time with his meal to enjoy the flavour. In his words, he didn't want to eat it. "You seem excited."

"Do I?" West straightened up. Okay, not part of her plan. She had to calm down. "Nah, I'm fine. Chris and I are gonna spend some time upstairs getting to know each other, okay?"

"Alright, honey," said River. "Have fun."

After giving a nod of affirmation, West ran up the stairs and released Chris from his capsule. Immediately the Torchic got into a battle-ready stance, before realizing there was nobody around to battle. He looked back at West quizzically.

West chuckled and shook her head. "No, we aren't having a battle right now. Don't worry, we can have another soon if I get lucky. But for now, let's just rest. You're still kinda beat up, right?"

Chris shook his head rapidly despite the rather large number of rashes and bruises scattered around his body. Pokémon moves weren't actually all that powerful, so it was nearly impossible to seriously hurt a Pokémon during a battle. Still, Chris looked pretty roughed up.

West wasn't fooled by his facade. "C'mon, Chris. You aren't helping yourself like this. Are you really ready to fight Treecko again when you're in this state?"

Chris nodded just as rapidly as before, though he started to pay the consequences for being so haphazard with his emotes. The Torchic winced as his neck got fed up with the stress he was putting on it.

West was busy retrieving something from one of her drawers. She pulled out a purple spray bottle, and crouched on the floor. "Alright, hold still."

Chris obeyed, staying motionless as West aimed the nozzle at one of his wounds. Upon squeezing the trigger, though, Chris flew into a frenzy, giving a sharp shrill squawk as West tried to grab hold of the Pokémon before he reopened even more of the wounds he'd gotten earlier.

Now it became a wrestling match as West tried futilely to pin Chris to the ground as the Torchic squirmed desperately to avoid more of the stinging acid that his trainer was dumping onto him. West was having a lot more difficulty than she'd anticipated, because she wasn't sure how hard she could push Chris into the ground before she'd actually start hurting him. That was the last thing she wanted to do, but Chris was really pushing her to the limit.

"I'm trying to help you!" West yelled frantically, eventually lifting him up onto her bed. She wrapped him up in her bedspread, restraining him. She couldn't treat him like this, but she needed him to calm down.

The mass of blankets writhed as the Torchic inside fought to free himself from the fabric prison. After around five minutes of struggling, the lump calmed down and gave up, accepting his fate. West carefully began unwrapping the bundle.

"Are you okay now, Chris?" she asked, running over the whole incident again. She...probably could have handed that better.

The Torchic sighed and nodded begrudgingly. West held up the bottle again, and Chris tensed.

"This is a potion," West said softly. "It's going to help you. I could've told you that it stings a bit, but you overreacted, didn't you? It wasn't _that_ bad, was it?"

Chris glared up at her for a second, before reluctantly nodding again.

West smiled a bit in victory. "Alright, we're going to try this again, okay?" She held up the bottle. "Though...if you can't handle a little bitty potion...maybe you aren't ready for the Pokémon challenge..." She put on a regretful tone.

Chris stiffened, and looked at West with wide eyes. Then he puffed out his chest, and tried his best to put on a fierce expression.

"Alright, ready?" West pointed the bottle at another wound.

Chris flinched, but didn't change his expression.

West squeezed the trigger again, spritzing the bruise with a dose of potion. Chris let out a pitiful whimper, but stayed strong. About four minutes later, Chris was completely treated.

Giving him a congratulatory pat on the head, West got up and stashed the potion back in the previous drawer.

"Well, you've proved yourself worthy," West said in a grandiose tone. "We're leaving tomorrow. But first, I've gotta take care of something."

* * *

East hadn't said much during dinner. He'd spent a good five minutes pushing around the food on his plate. Once he finished, he went straight up to his room without saying so much as a word to his mother.

His mom watched him walk up the stairs. She hadn't really tried sparking conversation during dinner – she could sense that now wasn't really the time. This was also the reason she didn't follow him up the stairs.

East wasn't really upset anymore, honestly. He was just feeling spent. As annoying as she can be sometimes, he didn't like making his mom worry like this. But right now he really couldn't be bothered. As far as he was concerned, the red-and-white ball clipped to his belt signified the end of his autonomous life. He was now going to beat the eight Pokémon Gyms scattered around Hoenn, beat the Elite Four in Ever Grande, beat the Champion also in Ever Grande, and become a Gym Leader in Petalburg for the rest of his natural life.

He took the Pokéball off of his belt and rolled it around in his hands. The Pokémon was data right now, so it shouldn't really matter how he held the Pokéball until he released it. What he didn't like was how flimsy the thing felt. It seemed to be made of a rather cheap plastic. And if he was going to be throwing this down to release Treecko, he didn't want it getting scuffed up from rugged mountain paths he'd no doubt be traversing. He rubbed the ball against his shirt to shine it. To its credit, it did look very appealing in its mint condition.

He tossed the ball towards the ground, and in a flash of light, Treecko was once again released. The gecko swept his gaze around the room, taking in his new surroundings. Eventually his large yellow eyes settled on East. Once again, he adopted that smug look he'd first had in front of the Pokémon Center.

"What's with the look?" East asked, settling back on his bed. His head hit the sloped ceiling, and he growled in slight annoyance, rubbing the tender area.

The Treecko walked up and plopped himself down on the bed next to East. East, in retaliation, scooted about half a foot away. In response to _that,_ the Treecko rested his head on the pillow, lying down on the bed with his legs crossed.

"...You think you're funny, don't you?" East said flatly. To be honest, this wasn't really how he expected Pokémon to act. Yes, they were supposed to understand human speech, but...this thing was giving him _sass._

The Treecko looked up at him, and flashed a light grin. He shifted back and rested against the headboard, sitting up.

"Okay, so...what exactly is this that we have?" East asked, more to himself than to the Treecko. "What are you getting out of this that you didn't get in the lab?"

In response, the Treecko gave a short trill and shrugged, clasping his paws behind his head.

"You're pretty relaxed for a slave," East said experimentally.

The Treecko, instead of reacting in some grandiose way, merely gave East a skeptical look. East gave a short huff. So he wasn't going to react, huh?...Clever.

The boy gave his Pokémon a small smirk out of the corner of his mouth. "So. You aren't going to let me get away with something like that, huh?"

The Treecko's expression didn't change. East's did – his smirk vanished.

"Alright, then, be that way. But..." East rested his head on the mattress, careful not to bump it on the roof. "You looked good during the battle earlier. That's all that matters, right? How you look during it. Who cares if you win or lose, right?"

Now Treecko sat up straight. He shook his head, and gave East a disapproving look.

East grinned. "Oh, so that's what gets you riled up, eh?"

Treecko rolled his eyes and sat back on the bed.

East looked back across his room at the window. "...You feeling alright?"

His Pokémon gave a grunt of affirmation.

"Hey, East? There's someone at the door to see you!" His mom's voice called from downstairs.

East looked at Treecko, then back at the stairs. "Is it West?"

"...I don't know. I'm sending her up, okay?"

* * *

West took a deep breath. This was it. This was her one chance.

She took her first step on the stairs.

Then she shrieked and jumped backwards.

"The stairs make noise," East's voice called down.

West gave a curt nod, more to herself than anyone. "...I noticed." She began walking up the stairs again, wincing at each step. Eventually she reached the second floor, having to stoop to keep her head from hitting the ceiling. "...Kind of...cozy up here."

"Yeah," East said. He was sitting on his bed, the Treecko leaning up against the headboard.

West looked over at him. He was looking out the window. That was bad. No eye contact.

"Look, East..." West rubbed her arm. "...I want to start over."

East didn't give her a single glance. "Whatever do you mean?"

"...I'm not exactly sure how, but...I think I messed up. So, I'd like to pretend we've never met, and start over."

"...Start over," East echoed. "Why?"

"...I want to be friends."

This statement got a reaction from the boy. He looked over at West, and crossed his arms. "...Start over. Alright."

He took a deep breath...then skittered back on his bed, hitting his head on the ceiling. He looked at West with an expression of surprise and fear. "Who are you?! How did you get in my house?!"

West pouted, and crossed her arms. "That isn't what I meant."

East held still for a moment, before dropping the expression. He rubbed the back of his head. "Alright. Now I've made a fool of myself and injured myself. So I'd say this is going swimmingly so far."

"Please, East...can you cooperate?"

"Tell me what I need to do, then."

"Pretend that your mom invited me over, and you're meeting me for the first time."

East shrugged. "Alright."

West took another deep breath, and stuck out her hand. "Hi. My name's West. Nice to meet you."

"Failing already."

"What?"

"I gave you the nickname West. We've rewound time. So now you don't have the nickname West."

"...Right," Westrose said, sighing. "Alright, let's try this again."

Eustace smirked a bit. "Careful. You might start a temporal paradox and undo your birth."

Westrose giggled. "I'm not going _that_ far...okay. Hi. My name's Westrose Birch. You are?" She extended her hand.

Standing up, Eustace took her hand and shook it. "...Eustace."

Westrose was silent for a moment as she tried to think of something to say. "Um...you're Norman's son, right?"

He crossed his arms and looked out the window. "Yeah. That's me. You've heard of me, right?"

"Well, yeah. Norman and my dad are really good friends," said Westrose. "Is that why you moved here? To be closer to him?"

"That's what my mom tells me," Eustace said. "Though it leaves me to wonder why we didn't move to Petalburg."

"Well, what do you think?" Westrose asked.

Eustace gave her a glance out of the corner of his eye, before returning his gaze to the window. " _I_ think it's because of _your_ dad."

"...My dad?" Westrose echoed. "What do you mean?"

"The Pokémon he gave me," Eustace replied. "I'm pretty sure my dad's been trying to set me up with one since I was ten."

"And how is it, now that you have one?" Westrose asked.

Eustace didn't say anything. "...You have one too."

"Uhh...yeah!" Westrose straightened up. "Got Chris this morning!"

"So you're taking on the challenge, then," he continued.

"...Yeah. Are you?"

Eustace didn't say anything at first. He looked out the window again at the darkening sky. The window was facing south, so there wasn't any beautiful western vista for him to look at here.

Besides the obvious, of course.

He sat back down on his bed. "Yeah. I guess I am."

"You want to go together?"

Eustace looked up at her. "Why would I want to go with you?"

Westrose jumped a bit. Dang it, she was doing it again. She was being too forward.

"...Sorry," she apologized. "That was..."

East was looking out the window again.

West's shoulders slumped, defeated. "...Look, East...I'm leaving tomorrow morning. If you want to come with me, just meet me there. If not...well, it was nice meeting you."

She slowly turned around and walked back down the stairs, ignoring the sound they made. She waved goodbye to East's mom and walked out the door, taking the long walk back to her house.

* * *

It'd been a rough night, and a rougher morning. Despite leaving East on a rather sour note, she was still deliberating on what to pack. Her bag could only hold so much. She'd already gotten it chock full of potions, antidotes, paralysis heals, burn heals, and the like, along with a generous helping of Poké Balls, Great Balls, and a couple of Ultra Balls for catching Pokémon. She'd even got a sleeping bag tied to the top of it, making her look (she thought) like a hiker. It was pretty heavy. But she could shoulder the weight.

Walking downstairs, she began to eat the breakfast her dad had prepared: bagels and bacon.

"Think of this as an apology for last night," Birch said with a laugh. "I love your mother. But her cooking..."

"Well, it's nutritious, at least," West said, helping herself to another slice of bacon. "Or that's what she tells us."

"So...ready for the big day?" he asked, sitting down across from West.

She nodded, then shook her head. Then she nodded again. "...No idea."

"Well, there's only one way to find out!" Birch said, laughing again. "You'd better get going if you want to make the most out of it."

"Oh, I've got time," West said. "It's not that long of a walk to Oldale."

Birch shrugged and kept eating.

West looked at her breakfast as she read into the hidden meaning of what she just said. It didn't really matter when she got to the edge of Littleroot. She was going on her journey alone.

She sighed and ate her breakfast, before walking over to the couch and flipping on the TV. There was a news article on about the Name Rater. West scoffed. The guy was a bit of a fraud. He always said that he loved your Pokémon's name regardless of what it was. And then he offered to change it. She didn't really like him all that much.

She watched a few more articles before deciding it was a good time as any to get going. So she got up, slipped her backpack back on, and waved to her dad. She stepped out of the door into the fresh air.

West began to walk towards Route 101, but halted in her tracks.

There was somebody there already.

And he didn't look happy.

Breaking into a run, West got to the entrance much quicker than she anticipated. Standing there, was East.

"...You lied."

West was panting, her face red from the blood rushing to it. Thus, she was unable to respond, so East continued.

"You said you'd be here this morning. I've been waiting here since eight. It's one now."

"I'm...sorry," West managed to wheeze out. "The...time got...away from me..."

"Yeah, well, are we going or not?" East asked, crossing his arms.

West looked up at him, still panting from the sprint. She smiled a bit, and nodded decidedly.

"Yes. We're going."


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, when I first uploaded this, there was some sort of problem with paragraphs being cut off. I'm somewhat sure I know what caused the problem, and I think I fixed it. So this is definitely a version two of this chapter. Someone already reviewed version one, so if some of the stuff doesn't match up, that's why.**

* * *

 **POKÉ** **RUS**  
By Multikirby

 ** _Chapter 5_**

A light breeze gently floated by, carrying the fragrant scent of flowers with it. The warm afternoon sun beamed down brightly, shining its generous rays on the earth below. The wind manipulated blades of grass like a hundred thousand ribbon dancers, making the lush greenery flow like an arbored sea, gently waving back and forth like the tide on a shore. This beautiful scene marked the start of an adventure two young adults would take that would change their lives forever.

Or so they've been told.

Westrose raised her slender arms above her head, arching her back in a stretching motion. She let out a sigh of relief as she took in the lush scenery. "It's a beautiful day," she murmured as if to keep the reverie of the scene intact.

She looked down at her Torchic that was trotting beside her. Judging from the fact that it was indeed trotting along with the happy chirps it gave every so often, Chris was enjoying the walk as well.

East, however, was standing at the edge of Route 101, still hanging close to Littleroot. He, like West, was taking in the scenery and the route, though unlike West, he didn't seem as appreciative.

"...Can we talk about this?" he called to West, who was a good twenty feet in front of him.

She spun on her heel and put her hands on her hips. "What is there to talk about, East? We're going on this route, we're starting our adventure, we're gonna be awesome and the best like no one ever was and become Pokémon Champions badabing badaboom we win!"

"...Yeah, that," East said, crossing his arms. "Can we talk about that?"

West looked down at Chris and shrugged, before walking closer to East. "What's wrong?"

East looked past West at Route 101. He frowned deeply. "We need a plan."

"I just told you a plan!"

"It's a bad plan. That's a very bad plan."

"Why is it a bad plan?" West stuck out her hip. "It ends with us winning!"

"Okay, which Gym are we going to first?" East asked. "What's your final team set up? Have you figured out what four moves all six will have? Whether the types of moves of one Pokémon covers the weaknesses of another? I bet you haven't even decided whether to nuzlocke or not."

From her expression, East could clearly see that he'd succeeded. Arceus, was that girl honestly planning on traipsing through the Hoenn region with _that_ as her plan? It wasn't even a plan, it was wishful thinking! At least, he'd gotten her back on the ground, ready to actually think through this pipe dream critically. Heck, if East played his cards right, he might not actually have to go on this adventure at all-

"Rustboro Gym, I'll improvise my team, and I have no idea what nuzlocke is," West chirped. "Let's go!"

...Okay then. It'll take a bit more convincing. "Are you sure Rustboro's a good idea? It specializes in the Rock type. Chris isn't going to do well there."

"Not like this, no," West admitted, looking down at her Torchic. "Oh, don't make that face. It's nothing you can help, you're just a Fire type right now! That's why you're gonna evolve first!"

 _...She can't be serious._ "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm serious!" West said happily. "We both are! We're gonna train until we drop, and then train some more! Once Chris evolves, he'll become a Fighting type too, and he'll learn some moves that can crush that Gym to dust!"

"...Do you know what level Torchic has to be to learn the first fighting move?" East asked. "Have you even looked at the learn set of Torchic? Or what level it evolves at?"

"Come on, East, we all know levels are just an abstract form of measurement."

"West, _all_ forms of measurement are abstract," East said through gritted teeth. "And it just so happens that this specific form is extremely accurate in predicting the time periods of a Pokémon's development where it evolves and learns moves."

"...East, I was being sarcastic," West said flatly. "I'm a Pokémon professor's daughter. Give me a little credit!"

Well. Did not expect that. "Wait, you guys have sarcasm in Hoenn? You sure that isn't too advanced a concept?"

West cracked a grin at that. "West no understand what city boy say. West and city boy get to Oldale before West die of old age."

East bit his lip. He didn't want to do this. He REALLY didn't want to do this. But at this point, what choice did he have? With a resigned sigh, East set foot on Route 101, officially beginning his Pokémon League Challenge.

* * *

West frisked through the tall grass of Route 101, enjoying the quiet ambiance of the wooded path. "Keep on the lookout, Chris," she whispered. "Wild Pokémon could be anywhere!"

"Actually, they usually just stick to the tall grass," East called from the trodden path. "It's kind of predictable that way."

West huffed and stamped her foot. "I'm trying to add a sense of adventure and mystery to this, East! Come on!"

"Right, sorry," East said. West didn't have him in her sights, but she was pretty sure he rolled his eyes right there.

"Why aren't you in the tall grass, too? How do you expect Treecko to get stronger if you just hang out where you don't get any battles?"

"Oh, I'll get battles," East said. "I just don't want any right now. I'm not prepared."

West turned to face him. "Not prepared? What did you pack?"

"...Like, an extra set of clothes, and some food."

The girl was silent for a moment. "You're joking, right? You packed more than that, right?"

"Well, I have my wallet too, so-"

"Arceus, East, this isn't just a walk to the grocery store! I mean, some food? Set of clothes? _Set?!"_ West exclaimed. "As in singular? One set? Oh, man, I'm tempted just to drag you over to Lilycove right now."

"It isn't that big a deal," East mumbled. "There's a mart in Oldale. I can just get some more stuff there."

"It IS a big deal, East!" West stormed over to him and roughly placed both her hands on his shoulders, shaking him. "You need to be _prepared!_ What if something bad happens? What if night falls before we get to Oldale?"

East remained unperturbed. "West, it's one in the afternoon. We'll get there before five."

"You aren't going to find clothes in Oldale, I can tell you that much," West said, crossing her arms. "...Did you at least pack Pokéballs?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "Of course, I did. I'm not _stupid."_

"So are you going to catch a Pokémon here?"

"Please," East scoffed. "You can have the Zigzagoons and Poochyenas. I'm going to go for a Ralts on the next route."

"A Ralts? Aren't those rare?" West asked, shifting her gaze to her feet in search of a new friend.

"Yeah. But they're Psychic and Fairy, and they evolve twice," East said. "So they'll be pretty useful."

West bent down, completely concealing herself in the grass. She began crawling around, her palms flat on the cool dirt as her bright eyes looked through the grass.

"Ah ha!" she exclaimed, though whispering. Her eyes settled on a small Wumple. She clapped her hands excitedly. "Alright! Here we go...! Chris!" She turned to her companion, then back to the Wurmple. Reaching her arm over her head, she whipped it in the direction of the Wurmple and pointed dramatically.

East swore he heard the slamming of a desk.

"Engage!"

Chris stood ready on the plain, in a bouncing stance. He began to stare daggers into the Wurmple's eyes, a Wurmple that was becoming increasingly nervous about the situation. The worm's eyes flitted from the Torchic to West, then back to the Torchic. It became increasingly freaked out, and began to back up in an effort to extract itself from the situation.

"Alright, Chris," West said, taking a ready stance herself. "Remember, don't rough him up too bad. We want him to like us! Just enough to impress him and-slash-or weaken him so we can capture him!"

"That's a female Wurmple," East called, leaning against a tree with his Pokédex in hand.

West stiffened, and pulled out her own Pokédex, holding it up. A static screen displaying Chris' stats as well as the Wurmple's level, general health, and gender were displayed. To affirm East's claim, there was indeed a pink female symbol by the Wurmple's stat bar. She cringed and looked up at the Wurmple, apologizing profusely.

Or she would be if the Wurmple wasn't already hightailing it out of there.

"Ch-Chris! Stop hi-" she halted. "Her! Stop her in her tracks!"

The Torchic gave an affirming nod and gave chase, West not far behind. Neither of the Pokémon

Chris gave an understanding nod and rushed towards the terrified worm, leaping onto her and scraping her carapace with his sharp talons. The Wurmple's abdomen curled, and a sticky white substance shot out from the two yellow spikes on her back. The sticky slime fastened around Chris' torso, the propulsion of the attack knocking the chick off. He faceplanted, grinding into the dirt. The Wurmple, still pretty nervous, watched the Torchic warily as he flailed on the ground, futilely trying to free himself of the String Shot. Suddenly recognizing she had the advantage, the Wurmple charged towards the incapacitated Chris and rammed into his side, causing him to give a grunt of pain.

"Okay, uh...Chris, you..." She knew this! West knew this! She knew how to handle this so why on earth was she floundering?! "Uhh...okay, uhh..." She winced as another _thwack_ assaulted her ears, signifying another painful-sounding Tackle against Chris' increasingly battered body. How could this battle become this bad so quickly!?

West closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. She couldn't let Chris down...what was it about String Shot...? She'd done a lab on it a few weeks ago...

 _"Alright, West, this is a Weedle," Birch said, placing a brownish caterpillar on the lab table. "Today we're going to be looking at one of its moves, String Shot."_

 _"Okay," West said, her eyes fastened on the worm. "So what are we studying about String Shot? Non-battle applications? How the Pokémon manufactures the move?"_

 _"Actually, I was thinking that you'd decide what to study," Birch said, placing a large hand on his daughter's shoulder._

 _She looked up at her father with wide eyes. "R-really? I can design my own experiment?"_

 _"Of course! You've done it before!" Birch laughed._

 _West's eyes sparkled. She knew exactly what she was going to do._

 _Battle tactics. West was going to look at how this move could be applied in battle, and how it could be countered. She was going to be a trainer someday, and someday this move will be used against her. And she was going to know what to do. She would prepare now for the future._

 _"Weedle! Use_

Ember!" West yelled. "Use Ember on the String Shot! It's flammable!"

Chris was now at critical health, and it showed. He was unable to move, and the Wurmple wasn't letting up with its advances now that she knew she had the advantage. Chris closed his eyes and shot a weak-looking flame at the string surrounding him. Almost instantly the sticky substance erupted into flames, freeing up the bird's bound body. Springing to his feet, Chris hopped away before shooting another Ember at the Wurmple, eager to pay the Bug-Type back for the pain she'd caused.

The flame was a direct hit between the eyes, and the Wurmple was blasted back. It tried shooting another String Shot, but with a quick command from West, Chris was able to avoid it a second time. Chris deftly jumped out of the way of the white sticky stream, and blasted another burst of fire at the worm, launching her back. Chris rushed up and vaulted onto the back of the Wurmple, scraping across her back again. The Wurmple squirmed underneath Chris's assault, but it was obvious the battle was exhausting her.

"Alright, Chris, that should be enough," West said, calling the Torchic off. "Let's do this! Pokéball, GO!" Winding up her arm, West hurled the red and white sphere towards the floundering worm. It landed with a plunk and rolled on the ground about two feet away, missing the Wurmple entirely. East snickered.

West stared at the ball rolling away. "...I, uh...Pokéball! Go again!" She quickly pulled out another ball and tossed it with even more fervor. This ball hit the trunk of a tree behind the Wurmple and promptly broke in half.

"Oh, come on!" West fumed, stomping her foot. "That's it, forget this!" She stormed up to the Wurmple until she was about one and a half feet away. "Pokéball...go..." she seethed, weakly tossing the ball at the worm. This one connected, and with a red beam of light, the Pokémon was absorbed into the ball.

"You might want to work on your accuracy," East called, leaning against a tree while eating a fruit. "Not every Pokémon's just gonna stick around and wait for you to capture them."

West stood up and crossed her arms, sticking her leg out. "...What are you eating?"

East stopped chewing for a moment and looked at the fruit in his hand. "...Fruit."

"What kind of fruit?"

"Dunno."

"Do you usually eat unknown fruit?"

"What's the harm in a fruit?"

"That one's psychotropic."

"...What?"

"It's psychotropic," West said, eyeing the bumpy red fruit in his hand. "It affects your mental state."

East's eyes narrowed as he stared at the fruit. "...This is a razz berry."

" _Looks_ like a razz berry."

"...So what is it?" East asked quietly.

"Psychotropic."

"What _is_ it?"

"I think it's called a bitril berry. Feeling loopy yet?" West teased, poking East's ribs.

* * *

"Y...you're lying." East grabbed his head, thoughts swimming. This was a lie. This had to be a lie. She was laying. Lying. She was lying.

"Oh, really?" West smirked, walking past him. "Prove it, then. Prove you just didn't eat crazy-fruit."

"It's a raspberr...razz berr...bar..." East stumbled across his words, cursing himself. It was not psychotropic. That thing he ate was NOT making him crazy. It was a normal ras...brass berry. Rass...grass? What did he just eat?! "How do I get this stuff out?!"

"Oh, well, you have to wait for it to pass," West said, turning on her heel to face him, an insufferable smile on her face.

"Pass...but..." East blinked, struggling to figure out what that meant. Why was she speaking in a different language? What was that? Kalosian? Why was she speaking Kalosian?

"Y'know, go through your system," West continued. "Processing?"

 _Now that was just jargon,_ East thought. _System? Processing? What sort of alien language is that...?_

"It isn't an alien language, silly!" West laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. "It's Standard!"

East wobbled on his feet, before falling flat on his face. "Don't...don't sla...p me..." He scrunched his face up in thought. Was slap a real world...? He raised his hand and stared at it. What was this...called? When someone brought their hand against someone else hard? Was that a...palette?

"Palette you?" West laughed, bending down on her haunches and staring at the boy on the ground. "What does that mean?"

"...Sh-shut up..." East growled, pushing himself to his feet. "We need to...get...rid of this thing. The...eat thing. The thing that...that I eat. Eat-ed." He made another face. "...If I survive this, please kill me."

"Aww, don't be embarrassed," West said, leading him along the path. "Let's look at it this way. We both did some embarrassing things today. I missed a toss or two...and you ate a psychotropic fruit causing you to temporarily lose your sanity. Whoopsie!"

East merely growled lowly as he stumbled after her, heading for Oldale.

* * *

West was having the time of her life.

This was just too rich.

She didn't think she could pull this off.

But here he was. Mr. Tough Guy.

Mr. Hypochondriac, apparently.

She looked back at East, smiling a bit. "How're you holding up? You hallucinating yet?"

"...what?" East's voice was hoarse. She'd told him a while back that the fruit also affects his throat, and about fifteen seconds later he'd contracted...laryngitis or something. "...it makes you hallucinate, too...?"

"Mmhmm. Honestly, I'm surprised you were able to weed out the most harmful non-lethal fruit in those woods first try!"

East merely groaned and held his head in his right hand. "Arceus, just make it stop..."

"Don't worry. We're going to the center as we speak. We'll get you treated, don't you worry!"

"..." East was mumbling to himself under his breath. It was pretty obvious he wasn't very happy about this situation.

Turning back around, West saw the town of Oldale just beyond a clearing of light trees. She'd come here often with her father, as there wasn't a grocery store in Petalburg. When West was young, she'd always just assumed Petalburg and Oldale were a single town. She loved the people in Oldale. So friendly, approachable...elderly. West had always found it somewhat amusing that the average age of people in Oldale was around fifty or higher. She'd assumed for a long time that when someone got too old for Petalburg, they moved the short distance to Oldale. Now, walking into the tree-shrouded town, West experienced a sense of nostalgia for her childhood. There wasn't a grocery store in Petalburg, so she and her parents regularly walked to Oldale to do their shopping. She knew a lot of the people here, and she was glad to be back here. She took a deep breath of the fresh air, and savoured the feeling.

That is, until East let out another melodramatic groan behind her, bringing her back to reality. Right, she still had to break it to him that he _wasn't_ dying.

"Hey, East. You want to know a secret?" West said, letting go of his hand.

"Not...not now...you're...interrupting her," East mumbled, looking off to the left with a dazed look. "Shh. Shhhhut up...she's talking...more s...symbiosistemporals, p-probably..."

Wow. Symbiosistemporals? What the heck was that? West shook that off and turned around. "That fruit you ate? It WAS a razz berry. You're completely fine."

"...what?" East looked over at her, confused. "...what do you mean? I...I'm just like...?"

"Yeah. You aren't sick. You just _think_ you are."

This silenced East for a good twenty seconds.

"...So...everything that just happened...all that was..."

"It was all you!" West giggled. "It was all you, East!"

* * *

 _Don't palette me._

 _System? Processing? Was that Kalosian?_

 _Symbiosistemporals._

 _..._

 _Symbiosistemporals._

 _Symptoms. I was trying to say symptoms._

East was quiet. Very, very quiet. The realization of his mistake hit him like a hurricane. Not in a violent wind. Not yet. It started far away, a swirling storm of clouds in the distance, coming ever closer. And East couldn't do anything about it. Those thought processes. Those hysterical blurtings. The stumbling. The sore throat. The voices. The 'imaginary friends'. He couldn't blame them on the fruit anymore. That was all East. Stupid, gullible, hypochondriac East.

He began to tremble as he felt his reputation crumbling to dust under the influence of this one incident. He had been fooled. Duped. Pranked. And now he was just that one guy who thought he got poisoned. _Oh, hey, look at that guy! He thought he got poisoned by a razz berry! What a bloomin' idiot!_

But then he looked up and noticed something. West's triumphant smile had begun to fade slightly. East hadn't responded for a good while, and West was beginning to become slightly uncomfortable with the situation.

East saw his chance to get back into control. And he took it.

Staying silent, he lifted his head to look at West, his expression vacant, hollow, empty. East studied her face, her expression, her body language, posture, stature, emotion, _soul._

As he continued to elongate the silence between the two, West's right hand raised and grasped her left forearm. _Insecurity. She's unsure._ She broke eye contact, looking down. _Guilt._ She bit her lip, and her eyes began darting back and forth as if watching something. _Doubt. She's reflecting on what she did, and she's doubting herself._

 _Alright, East...she's ripe. Get ready._ He lifted his head slightly. _Slight recovery. Still vulnerable, but shows I'm not about to take this lying down._ He folded his arms. _On the offense. Show her I mean business._ He took a deep breath, letting it out. But he didn't open his mouth. _Reflecting on what I'm going to say. Build suspense._

 _Okay, you've got one chance at this, East. Don't blow it._

"...I thought I was going to die."

West's eyes widened, and she looked up in shock. "B-but psychotropic fruits aren't fatal! You wouldn't die from it!"

"Yeah, well, it sure felt like it," East said. "Tell me, West...are you familiar with the feeling of going insane? Slowly slipping away into your subconscious, becoming a prisoner in your rapidly deteriorating mind? It's terrifying."

West broke eye contact again, and she looked down at her feet. Her shoulders sagged, and she let out a sniffle - she was about to cry. East took this as a sign to give one final blow, and then back off.

"And what's this say about you? You're a professor's daughter. I chose to trust you when you said I was poisoned and look where it got me. I'm humiliated, possibly scarred mentally, and you're over there laughing at me. How can I trust you after this?"

That did it. Her eyes squinted shut, and her face screwed up. East noticed a small wet trail make its way down West's face. He'd gone a little too far - he knew that. He hadn't meant to make her cry. She was loathing herself now, and he didn't want that. He had to stick to this journey until he got data in Rustboro, which meant that he'd have to travel with West until then. And downers were a pain to travel with. East had to soften the blow.

"...That being said..." East continued, making West look up, wiping her eyes. "...I've been alive for a good while. And in all that time, nobody has been able to do something like that to me before. And that means that it takes a lot for someone to do something like that."

West's face exuded confusion as she tried to comprehend what was going on. "So...you...you aren't mad?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm mad," East said, a small smirk on his face. "But I'm willing to give you a grace period before I retaliate."

"...A grace period?" West echoed, now more confused than anything. "Like..."

East nodded. "You've earned that much."

She smiled a little and stood straight again. "Well...I guess that's good to hear. How long is this grace period?"

East's own smile vanished almost instantly. "I'd say about twenty seconds."

"...Oh." West's eyes widened. Half a second later, she was about six feet away and going, sprinting her escape from East as he stood there, watching her go.

He took a deep breath and looked around Oldale. Finding a small café, he walked towards it and opened the door, a gentle tinkling resonating from the bell attached to the door. The relaxing scent of coffee accompanied the gentle wind from the fan, and East stopped in the doorway to take it in. This felt different.

Johto had cafés too, but this one's atmosphere seemed different. You weren't faced with a giant board littered with items and prices. It didn't have intricate graphic designs drawn on the walls, and there was no social awareness from the animosity of people sitting at tables, their mannerisms practically screaming to leave them alone. Oldale's café was different. Everything was gentle. A nice set of wooden wall panels, a small stand at the bar displaying the prices of the popular items, a relaxed barista reading a book, patrons having quiet conversations, their gentle voices harmonizing with the clinks of mixing spoons against mugs.

East sat down at the bar, looking over the items, as he thought about what to do with West. He wasn't actually going to retaliate. He'd gotten his payback already - she wouldn't need any more retribution. He'd stay here, and wait for her. He was in plain view of the door, and it wasn't that far from the Pokémon Center - which was where they'd spend the night - as well as where she'd last seen him. She'd come back and see him through the door. And they'd talk.

He thought for a moment. They'd talk...why did that feel so strange to think about? He shook his head, pushing the thought out of his mind, as he flagged the barista and ordered a cappuccino with a shot of lemon. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of his coffee being made. Soon enough he heard the clink of the mug being set down in front of him, and he looked at his drink.

East was in Oldale now. He was in Oldale, with no eyes on him. Nobody exerting power over him. Nobody passively suggesting how his life should be run. In this moment, he was independent.

It felt different.


	6. Chapter 6

**POKÉRUS  
** By Multikirby

 _ **Chapter 6**_

West was freaking out. Really and truly, she was freaking out. East hadn't seemed happy at all with that stunt she pulled. Sure, he'd forgiven her for it, but she was feeling kind of paranoid about the whole thing. She'd turned a corner before those twenty seconds East had given her ran out, so she wasn't sure where he was right now. Hopefully nowhere near her. She didn't know too much about East, but those eyes meant business. So she was going to steer clear of him until he cooled off.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned against a house and looked up at the sky. It was blue and bright, with a few white wisps of cirrus clouds running their lengths across the atmosphere. Exhaling, she lowered her head and closed her eyes. She was pretty sure she'd lost East. West wasn't hearing any terrifyingly fast footsteps pursuing her, so she figured she was safe for at least twenty seconds.

She slumped down against the side of the house, settling on the soft grass below her. Pulling her knees up to her chest, West took her two Pokéballs off her belt. Chris and the Wurmple she'd caught were both pretty beat up. She looked past the corner at where she'd last seen East. The Pokémon Center was right there...and East wasn't. Still, the whole setup made her nervous. Getting up, she took another deep breath, deliberating whether to revive her Pokémon with a Potion, or save the money and trouble and get to the Center, risking an encounter with a fuming East.

Bracing herself, West tightened her grip around the Pokéballs, and sprinted. She didn't dare look left or right, lest she set her sights on her travel partner's eyes of madness. Her feet pounded on the soft dirt path below her as she propelled herself towards the safe haven of the Pokémon Center. The white and red building rose into her vision, and West almost gave a sigh of relief as she realized she was almost there. She ground to a halt in front of the Center and leaned against the wall of the building to catch her breath. Puffing, she looked through the glass doors at the soft beige colour of the interior. Once she felt like her lungs were indeed safe from the risk of catching fire, she walked inside.

A relaxing tune played on the radio over the speakers of the Center. West was pretty sure the station was called 'Oldale Oldies'. It was some old jazz song with a softly wailing trumpet accompanying a laid-back singer crooning about flying to the moon. West smiled a little. She wasn't too big a fan of jazz, but after that incident with East, she would welcome any sort of relaxant. She walked up to the counter and set her Pokéballs on the smooth surface. The volunteer took them and put them on the machine in the back. While the Pokémon inside were being healed, West looked at the volunteer. It was a young woman with curled red hair and a nurse's cap.

"...Joy?" West mumbled. "Is that you?"

The nurse turned around from the machine to face West, her expression confused. "...Yes, it is. You are?"

"West!" she exclaimed. "I-I mean, Westrose! We were friends up until I moved to Littleroot in second grade!"

Suddenly Joy's face lit up in recognition. "Oh, yes! I do remember! How are you holding up these days, Westrose?"

"It's West now, actually," she said with a twinge of pride in her voice. "I'm actually taking on the Pokémon League Challenge as we speak!"

"Really?" Joy's face adopted an expression of surprise. "Goodness, you never struck me as the type of person to do that sort of thing! That's very ambitious of you!"

West's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Never struck her as the type of person to do that sort of thing, hmm? Well. Guess what, Joy? She _was_ , and she was _doing it._ So ha. Ha ha. West plastered on a grin and straightened her posture. "Thanks! I'm actually traveling with someone else right now, too."

"Oh, really?" Joy rested her elbows on the counter, putting her head in her hands. "Who is it? Did you meet a hot guy in Littleroot? Or did you leave me and find a new best friend?"

"Best friend?" West scoffed. "Pah, you didn't recognize me when I walked in! It hasn't been that long!"

"Oh, come on, you did your hair up differently!" Joy defended.

West simply looked at Joy's exaggerated loops of _literally_ red hair and raised an eyebrow.

"...Touché," she chuckled, feeling a loop of her hair with a slender white hand. "What can I say? I'm a rebel."

"A rebel working at a government-operated Pokémon healing facility," West said, putting a hand on her hip. "How defiant of you! I can just imagine you in your assigned nurses outfit picketing against the Man!"

Joy stuck out her chin and pointed at West with a long finger. "Don't change the subject! Who are you traveling with?"

"You know the gym leader of Petalburg? Norman? It's his son."

Joy's jaw dropped. "OMA, West, is he hot?"

West blinked and brought her head back. "What?"

"Attractive! Is he hot? Do you have the hots for him? OMA, West, you totally do, don't you!?"

Caught off guard, a raging blush raced to West's cheeks as she batted away the accusations. "Ew, no! We're just friends!" She paused. "...Well...I mean, he may or may not be trying to kill me right now but that's beside the point!"

"Okay, okay, you don't like him!" Joy receded. "But is he _hot?_ "

"I-I don't know!" West said, raising her hands. "I guess? I don't know a lot about this sort of stuff. That was always your forté!"

"Out of ten," Joy insisted. "Rate him out of ten."

"Oh my gosh Joy, I don't _think_ about this sort of thing!"

"Well, _start_ thinking about this sort of thing!"

"Seriously, Joy!"

"Seriously, West, if you don't rate him out of ten right now, I'm not giving your Pokémon back."

West threw her head back and groaned. "Joooooy...okay, fine! Eight! He's an eight!"

She'd said eight. West had rated Eustace Asis Erdet an eight out of ten. Why had she rated him an eight out of ten? What sort of evil spirit had possessed West to give him an _eight_ out of _ten?!_ That was four out of five stars! One point three thumbs up! Eighty percent _perfect specimen of a human male!_

"An eight, huh?" Joy grinned and waggled her eyebrows. "Are you _sure_ you two are 'just friends'?"

"Oh my _gosh_ , Joy!" West buried her face in her hands. "Shut _up!_ "

"Okay, tell me everything about him," Joy said as she turned around and took the Pokéballs off the machine. "I want to know every minute detail about him. Is he nice? Is he buff? What gives him an eight?"

Great. This was just freaking WONDERFUL. West would have to describe East, making him sound like an eight ON PURPOSE so Joy wouldn't prosecute her for lying about how HOT SHE SAID EAST WAS.

"Alright, well..." West bit her lip. This was ridiculous. How would she describe East...? Where should she start? "He has...these really deep brown eyes. They're...really intense. Like Norman's, I guess. And he has this really adorable hat that, like, sags off the side of his head...it's really cute, actually. And he's always so sure of himself, super confident. He has dark brown hair that he keeps under his hat. It's always really clean and taken care of. Well, I shouldn't say always, since...I've known him for two days. But...he always smiles like he knows some sort of joke that he's holding over your head, and he's pretty tall, too...like, maybe a few inches taller than me, anyways. And the way he carries himself is just so...so..."

"So what?"

Oh no.

West slowly turned around, all the blood draining from her face. All of it.

There, standing behind her, was Eustace Asis Erdet. His arms were crossed, and his intense brown eyes were staring directly at West's tomato of a face. His mouth was curled up into that smirk she'd just so laboriously described, and his hat was indeed sagging off the left side of his head in that adorable way. Though funny, it somehow managed to look intimidating now.

"Go on, I'm waiting," East said, his eyebrows raised expectantly. "I heard about my hat, my hair, and my smile. Tell me how I carry myself."

West began babbling incoherently, trying to explain what the heck it was that East had just walked in on. Her veins filled with magma and her vision began to pulse. She was going to black out. She was going to black out while trying futilely to explain to East that she wasn't actually attracted to him but was still describing him in a totally attractive way because she'd rated him an eight out of ten but not really she just kind of blurted it out.

And even then, East just stood there with that insufferable smirk plastered across his face. That superior smirk, his eyes glinting mischievously. He was just... _there,_ rubbing in the fact that he had her cornered, and there was nothing she could do about it. She was floundering like a Magikarp and he _knew it._ He was relishing in this...

Suddenly West kind of understood why he got so mad at her before. She sighed and shut her mouth, her shoulders slumping. "...I'm not even going to try."

"So you're Eustace, huh?" Joy said, striking a pose that seemed just a little _too_ casual. Apparently she'd been having her eye on the boy while West was suffocating in embarrassment. East wasn't actually attractive to her...was he? "West's told me so much about you..."

"Uh huh." East lightly pushed West out of the way and came to the counter. "Can you top this up for me?" He put Treecko's ball on the counter.

West looked back in a bit of confusion. Why was he healing Treecko? He hadn't battled in the route...

"Sure thing, hon," Joy chuckled, taking the ball gingerly and plugging it into the machine. Almost immediately she was back in front of East, resting her elbow on the counter. "So. West tells me she and you are traveling together, huh? Lucky girl."

"Yeah, sure," East said curtly, keeping his eyes on the monitor above the machine, waiting for the process to complete.

"You know, I love a guy who's good at battles," Joy said, twirling her finger on the counter idly, her eyes locked on East's, a playful smile on her face. "And lucky me, they always come back here to see me before too long..."

"Uh huh."

"You any good at battles?" Joy pressed. "I mean, you're Norman's son, right? Of course, you are...I think that's admirable. It takes quite a bit of character to train a Pokémon to that point. Dedication...undivided attention...long-term commitments..."

"Yep."

West couldn't help but scoff. Joy was shameless. Tell her a guy's an eight, and she'll be all over them like glue.

"Tell me, Eustace...what do you like in a girl, huh?" Joy asked, batting her eyes.

East finally tore his eyes off the monitor and looked Joy in the eye. "You're flirting with me."

Joy stiffened. "...What?"

"You're trying to flirt with me," he said. "If I'd come in without West to introduce me, you wouldn't be doing this. I suggest you don't turn the reputation of this Pokémon Center into the equivalent of an online dating site. My Pokémon's finished. Give it back, please."

Joy blinked, then nodded curtly, quickly turning around and grabbing East's Pokéball from the machine and handing it back to the boy.

"West and I will be staying here for the night. Preferably two separate rooms. If you can't do that, at least, give us two separate beds."

Wow. Just like that, huh? East just called her out on her methods. _Look at her face!_ West thought. _She's astounded!_

"Yes, of course," Joy said, bowing curtly as she went to a monitor to check the availability of the rooms.

West walked up next to her travel companion and gave him an impressed look. "...Wow, East. I have to say, I've never seen Joy shut down like that. Good job."

"You still haven't answered my question," East said, turning his head to give her an offside glance. "How do I carry myself?"

She felt her back go stiff as the subject was brought back. "Uhhh...I don't really...have an answer...?"

East was silent for a moment. Then he looked back at the monitor above the machine though there was nothing on it. "Ever tried a cappuccino with a shot of lemon?"

"Uh..." West thought a moment. "No. Why?"

"Don't. It's gross."

Joy came back with the keys to one room. "We apologize, we only have one room available for tonight," she said, bowing again as she handed the keys to East. "We hope you'll enjoy your stay."

"Thanks," East said as he walked to his room without another word.

Her eyes trained on the trainer, Joy watched him walk down the hallway. As soon as she deemed him outside of earshot, she whipped back to face West.

"Eight?! Are you _kidding_ me?!" Joy exclaimed. "That guy is a solid eight point four!"

West was taken aback. _"_...Define 'solid'."

* * *

East opened the door to his room. It was very neat and tidy, modern in appearances. It almost took away from the fact that it was half as big as a decent hotel room. The walls seemed to close in on him as he walked inside, and the fact that there was no private bathroom in the room concerned him even more. Space was mostly occupied by the two rather small mattresses set about three feet apart from each other, with a nightstand in between them with a lamp, an alarm clock, and a stack of tourism brochures. A small television was mounted on a dresser on the opposite side of the room. East took one of the drawers and opened it, noting that it completely got rid of what little space he had to pass between the end of the bed and the dresser itself. He did recognize, however, that he could fully open the drawer, unlike that one in his kitchen back home.

There was a soft glow about the whole room, and everything was neat, tidy, and most noticeably, white. The sheets over the beds were white. The dresser was white. The TV frame was white. The map above the beds was...well, _that_ wasn't white, but the paper it was printed on was probably white.

He took his backpack off and slipped it onto the bed furthest from the door, claiming it as his. He looked at the walls, somewhat displeased to find there weren't any windows. As East deliberated whether to go out and explore the town a bit again or head straight for Petalburg, there was a knock on the door.

"Hey, it's me. You decent?" West's voice called.

"There's no place to change in this room, and there's no reason for me _to_ change right now."

"...So you're decent?"

East rolled his eyes. "Yes, West, I'm decent."

The door opened, and West gave a sheepish grin as she walked inside. "I've kinda wanted to use that line for a while."

"...What line? 'Are you decent?'" East raised an eyebrow. "Why would you want to use that?"

"I honestly don't really know. I've just never had a cause to use it before at my house since none of us share a space where someone could walk in on-"

"West."

"Sorry." She made her way over to the bed closest to the door and sat down on it, looking around the room. "Hey, East. Why'd you ask for a night room?"

East directed his attention to the map of Hoenn on the wall. He let the question hang in the air for a moment before answering. "I didn't know whether we'd be going to Petalburg today."

West leaned back on the bed. "But...it's three in the afternoon. It's not like we won't get there in time."

"Maybe I want to explore Oldale," he said.

"Do you?"

East was silent. That wasn't why he'd gotten a room in the Center and he knew it. He didn't want to go and explore Oldale. It was a city of...what, old people? What was the catchphrase they printed on the brochures? He rolled over on the bed and reached for a brochure on the nightstand. He pulled it up to his face and studied it. The brochure had a smiling elderly couple walking down a sun-dappled path underneath a canopy of trees, surrounded by the almost fire-like colours of autumn around them.

Arceus, it was like an advertisement for a retirement centre.

"Looks interesting," he said.

West was lying down on her bed with her arms folded over her chest. She rolled her head over to look at him. "Pass me the flyer?"

East tossed it over to her bed, and she picked it up and gave it a once-over.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" East asked. "Why'd you want to look at the brochure?"

"Dunno," West said. "Bored. Wondering what you read. Trying to figure out how the heck you'd be interested in touring a city called Oldale."

East said nothing in response, simply looking at the ceiling.

"Hey, you think anything good is on TV?"

 _No, West. There will be nothing good on TV_ , East thought, rolling his eyes. "Remote's on the dresser."

"Guh, so far..." West groaned, pushing herself up to a sitting position. "Wish I was like...a Gardevoir or something. Then I could just Psychic it over." West was silent for a moment. "Ever think about what it would be like to be a Pokémon, East?"

He had. He'd spent quite a bit of time thinking about what it would be like to be a Pokémon. "Nope."

"It's an interesting concept, I think," West said, sliding off the bed. "I mean, imagine just being able to shoot a jet of water from your mouth powerful enough to punch a hole through steel. Or surround yourself with fire and do cartwheels, propelling yourself forward as you get ready to ram into opponents...It'd be pretty cool. At least, I'd think so."

"Yeah."

With a click of the remote, the TV went on, leaving West to watch some show and leaving East to his thoughts.

* * *

West held the facecloth under the tap, waiting for the water to warm. She was in the washroom shared by patrons staying in the Pokémon Center. Thankfully, it was separate from the public bathroom everyone who came in used, so it was less...well, disgusting. She wrung out the cloth and began to scrub her face.

East had decided to stay the night. She still had no clue why, but she didn't really feel like arguing. It wasn't like there was any sort of time limit on the Pokémon League Challenge or anything. They could spend a week on every route and still complete it. Granted, it'd take a heck of a lot longer. But hey, it's the journey that counts, right?

West rinsed out the cloth and hung it on a hook, sighing. She'd really wanted to go to Petalburg today, but she supposed she could wait. Oldale didn't have much in the way of tourism, but hey, it was relaxing. If West's intuition was right, there wouldn't be much of that soon. Maybe.

East had said he was going to try for a Ralts on the next route. West had figured he'd be in a hurry to go out there and get one, but nope. Oldale from three o' clock in the afternoon to nine o' clock the next day. Though, looking on the bright side, West supposed that this was a good test drive of what it'd be like to stay in Pokémon Centers. They'd be spending most of their nights in one anyways, so it'd be nice to get used to them.

That got her thinking, though. When would they go camping? One of West's fantasies about this adventure was lying on the soft cold grass, looking up at all the stars you could only see when you were far from civilization. She'd imagined looking for different ways to connect the dots of the celestial clouds above her head, perhaps trying to paint a tableau or story in the skies above her. Her eyelids would slowly grow heavy, her mind making up tales told in the stars as the stories were gracefully transferred into her dreams.

And yet here she was in a Pokémon Center, squinting through the mirror to make sure her hair was presentable.

She huffed and ran a hand down the hair draping down her right shoulder. She'd forgotten to style it for the past few days so that curl at the end she loved wasn't there. It was just straight. And her kit was in her backpack, in the room. Deciding it wasn't worth it, she loosely tied her lime green bandana around her neck and walked out of the bathroom.

West pulled out her cell phone and looked at the time. It was 7:12 PM. She made a face as she realized just how long she'd vegged out on her bed, watching the television. She still had time to go out and look around Oldale if she wanted to. She figured since they were leaving at nine in the morning tomorrow, it'd be good to go to bed around nine in the evening. Walking through the hallway, West decided she'd check in with East, and see if he wanted to come, then go out and look around Oldale without either of her parents beside her.

She got to their room and knocked on the door twice before opening the door and poking her head in. "Hey, East? I'm gonna go out and look around town. You want to come?"

The boy was lying on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. "...Nah. I'll stay here."

West frowned a little but decided not to get bothered by it too much. They'd be together pretty much all day tomorrow, so it wasn't that big a deal. "'Kay. I'll be back in an hour or so."

"Have fun."

She closed the door and walked down the hallway to the front of the Pokémon Center. It was then that she remembered her Wurmple and Chris. She still hadn't let out her new addition to her team yet...but was she allowed to in the Pokémon Center...? It sounded somewhat stupid to not allow Pokémon to be released in a _Pokémon Center,_ but West figured if a Skitty was allowed to be outside of its Pokéball indoors, then a Wailord should be allowed too, due to equality. But that wouldn't work out too well. She decided not to worry about it too much and just headed for the front doors.

"Hey, West," Joy called from the counter. "...You and Eustace are just friends, right?"

West turned around. "Yeah, why?"

"So you'd be okay with me going after him?"

 _Goodness gracious, Joy..._ "Yeah, sure," West sighed. "Though he shut you down pretty hard. You sure you want to go after him so soon?"

"Please, I love a challenge," Joy said in a singsong voice. "Especially if it's an eight point four!"

"Well, we're leaving at nine tomorrow, so you have...what? Fourteen hours left? Seriously, Joy, why even try?"

"Are you trying to dissuade me, Westrose?" she teased.

West smiled innocently. "Who, me? Don't be ridiculous!" She turned on a heel and headed outside into the cool evening air.

* * *

East pulled the blankets over himself as he laid down to go to sleep. The pillow was lumpy and uncomfortable, and the blankets were scratchy. The interior _looked_ great. Everything was very sleek and white, modern looking. Unfortunately for East, this modern look didn't really make for very comfortable rest. He sighed and sat up, adjusting his pillow for the fourth time before lying back down. He was getting kind of sick of this charade...perhaps if he occupied himself he could forget how dumb this bed was...

Alright, East. Game plan tomorrow. As much as he hated Petalburg, he wasn't sure whether he could stall another day convincingly. Plus Oldale was boring. East might as well get the inevitable encounter with his father over and done with. But he wasn't going to battle him. Not yet. He was going to put off the battle with his dad as long as he could. It was going to be unpleasant. His dad was going to embarrass him even if East won. Somehow West would get involved because so far she's gotten involved in everything.

This thought disregarded the obvious fact that they were traveling together and so East was also involved in everything West did.

Except the café. That was his thing.

And he supposed he wasn't intruding on whatever West was doing right now.

But the thought of the Gym in Petalburg and his father got him thinking. West had said that she was going to Rustboro first – not Petalburg. Why? Petalburg was closer, and the more badges you had, the more things you could do in the region. So why would West want to put off the battle? Norman wasn't _her_ father. He wasn't going to embarrass _her._ Heck, he'd probably be more of a father to her than he was to East. Tell her how to improve mid-battle, or whatever. Arceus, that'd be just like him. _Be a daddy to everyone but your own son, Norman. That's absolutely fine and not in any way worthy of a call to Child Services._

So why wouldn't she do it...? East wanted to ask her...but that would show interest. And he was still pretty determined to opt out of this as soon as he had data. If he expressed interest in her, then he'd be staked for the rest of the journey. He supposed he could skip out anyways, but West would go crying home to Papa because East abandoned her, and he'd face a cluster storm of problems from that point on. Though East still had to figure out a game plan for quitting anyways. He had no doubt in his mind that even if he was completely flawless in dropping out, West would report it anyways like the snitch she was. East didn't hold that against her too much. She was raised to be that way. Like an Alakazam raised for Super Contests. Completely wasted potential, but it's all that she knows. West was raised to be a stool Pidgey. She couldn't help it – it was pretty much built into her code. But if East was going to opt out, he'd have to figure out how to circumvent that code.

And what was he going to do afterwards? He couldn't just go back to Littleroot. Then his mom would _know_ something was up. No, he'd have to hide out somewhere, until a plausible amount of time had passed. Then he'd come up with some sob story of how he wasn't ready, and how he tried his hardest, but the cold nights and the daunting task was just too darn much for his little immature twelve-year-old brain. Perhaps wait until he was sixteen. Or eighteen. Or forty.

 _What about West?_ they would question. _Who'll go with her?_

Oh, but she was the one pushing me through it, East would respond. If anyone can do this journey alone, it would be her. She's a marvel, that girl. She's going places.

West probably wouldn't be too happy about the whole thing. He got the feeling she was somewhat attached to him. And that concerned him. Leaving might bring some unwanted moral obligations, along with some unnecessary waterworks. He'd have to circumvent that, too, or at least, learn to ignore it. When he'd made West cry yesterday, he'd felt a pang in his throat. That wasn't a good sign. If East was going to get done what he wanted to get done, he couldn't let other people's emotions factor into his decisions. He'd have to jump some mental hurdles...but hey, Hoenn data networks were worth it to him. He could just use those until the internet was up at his house.

Just a little longer, East. Just go to the top part of Hoenn, get that weird PokéGear thingy, and get data. Get the radio, everyone's happy.

Or at least, East would be.

* * *

 **Stool Pidgey = stool pigeon**


	7. Chapter 7

**POKÉRUS  
** By Multikirby

 _ **Chapter 7**_

The sweet serene song of birds gently weaved its way through the sleepy town of Oldale, softly serenading the slumbering citizens through the sunrise. Gentle rays beamed down on the burg, a warm feeling cascading over the few early risers who decided to go on a jog. Small spots of dew dotted each individual petal, leaf, and blade of grass, slowly drooping as each drop collected further to the edge, until the burden of weight sent the droplet cascading down to the thirsty earth below. Everything was tinted in a brilliant shade of gold as the blazing ball millions of miles away peeked over the slightly less distant mountains, the light skewed by the different perspective.

Of course, West noticed none of this, because the Pokémon Center room had no windows. Instead, she was greeted by the soft glow – and soft buzz – of fluorescent lights built into the stark white walls. West had been lying in her bed for quite a while, and the longer she'd slept in it, the more comfortable it seemed to become. That was, of course, standard for most people, or at least for West.

The night's sleep had been okay, though the walk last night was...less so. She had wanted to let her Pokémon out, but when she tried it, the Wurmple was less than happy to spend time with Chris. Chris, as well, hadn't been helping much. As soon as the Wurmple was released, Chris had tried to attack her again. West kept trying to explain to the bird that she WASN'T their enemy anymore, but Chris refused to listen. So she returned both of them to their Pokéballs and continued on the walk alone. Surprisingly, she hadn't encountered anyone on the actual walk itself. This was something she wasn't used to, especially in Oldale. A lot of people knew her father, so she was used to being talked to every ten minutes or so on the streets here. Now that she was here alone, she wasn't as readily recognized, letting her see the town at her own pace.

West was awoken this morning by the sound of the door to the hallway opening. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes to see a figure walking out the door.

"East...?" she mumbled. "...what time is it...?"

She didn't get a response right away. It was only when she took her hands away from her eyes and attempted focusing them on the boy that he answered the question.

"It's five forty-five in the morning," East said.

Okay, that explained why West's eyelids felt like they had two-ton weights fastened to them. "...What the heck are you doing up _this_ early...?"

"I've been looking into the Ralts I want from the next route," East said. "They've got a rarer encounter rate than I anticipated, so I'm going out early to get one so that we can make good pace to Rustboro."

West stared at him for another good five or ten seconds. "...East, they aren't _that_ rare. You could probably catch one within an hour."

"Well, I want to train it too, right?" East said. "It'd be nice to have a Kirlia to help tackle the first gym."

"But..." West blinked slowly. It hurt to keep her eyes open for too long – she hated being up _this_ early for that exact reason. "...But Rustboro is a Rock gym. And Ralts is Psychic and Fairy. That has no advantage over the Rock type at all."

"But it's an evolved form," East pointed out. Then he thought for a moment, and shook his head. "Why am I talking to you about this?"

West shrugged. "Because you woke me up."

"Well, I'm going to get some breakfast at the café, then go out to Route 102."

"Mm'kay...remember to feed your Treecko, too..." she murmured, rolling back onto her bed. "...have fun."

"Yeah, yeah..." East waved her off and walked out of sight.

West laid against the pillow, trying to will herself back to sleep. But try as she might, East had woken her up. And now she didn't really have much choice other than to get ready for the day. At five fifty in the morning.

 _Damn it, East_ ,she thought, mentally shooting the hall he'd disappeared into a dirty look.

Groaning, she aggressively threw the covers off of the bed and rose to a sitting position, once again bringing her hands to her eyes. After she was content with the amount of time she could keep her eyes open without them bursting into flames, she swiveled around and planted her feet on the carpet below the bed. She did not feel up to being alive right now.

East was lucky West hadn't decided to tag along, because if she did he'd mysteriously contract a number of bruises amounting in a double digit sum.

In other words: she'd hurt him.

Westrose was not a morning person.

* * *

East was frustrated.

His hand wrapped around the cold metal handle of the glass café doors, just to make sure he wasn't making it up. The door resisted. That meant that what the sign said was true: it was closed.

Of course the café wouldn't be open this time of the morning. What kind of café would be? And yet there had been some part of him that had hoped maybe time didn't matter here. But it did, and the café was closed, and East would not get his lemon shot coffee.

Today was not starting off well. Hopefully after half an hour of searching for a Ralts on Route 102, the café would be open. Heck, he might even give Treecko a lemon bread or something if he behaves. Maybe he'd actually be able to bond with the weird grass-bending gecko if he got lucky. Like, _really_ lucky.

With a grunt of defeat, he turned west towards Route 102. Taking a moment to hike his backpack up onto his shoulders, he ran into the light early morning forest path.

"Hey!" A voice called to the side.

East turned to face the caller on instinct, and instantly stiffened. _Oh, Arceus no._

Back in Johto, East had taken regular walks on the Routes. He'd found the activity to be a good refresher after he felt that pesky feeling of self-loathing after being on his GameCube and computer for seven hours straight. Getting outside gave a nice feeling of false accomplishment that let East continue vegging out guilt-free. But there was one thing that annoyed East to no end: trainers.

These people seemed to have no life. They stood on routes, waiting for someone to pass by them. Sometimes they went on patrols, going up and down the route like army sergeants. And East had constantly been stopped by them, their annoying voices demanding a Pokémon battle. It became such an issue that East came up with a set of rules to help dampen the impact of trainers.

Rule one: eye contact means instant death. Rule two: running is death also. Pokémon Trainers seemed to have a sort of sixth sense – East suspected an enlarged olfactory lobe. But East also knew about something called peripheral vision, the image at the edge of your field of vision. This part doesn't do detail that well, but it specializes in detecting motion. If East ran, he'd be spotted and stopped and challenged faster than he could say 'I don't have any Pokémon, dumbass'. And that led to his final and most important rule: have an empty belt. If you didn't have any Pokémon, the trainers didn't have any leverage, no matter how comfy and easy to wear their shorts were, or how great their stupid Rattata is. You can't have a Pokémon battle without Pokémon. And after a disturbance like that, East could feasibly get mad at the trainer for disturbing his walk and yelling at him. He didn't usually, because he didn't really want to yell at them, but it was nice to know that the opportunity was there.

But as he stared into the hungry eyes of a trainer, he realized with a growing feeling of dread that he had gone haphazardly into this route, and in so doing completely ignored his code. He had ran. He made eye contact. And while his heart was busy being pulled down out of his ribcage, he looked down at the singular Pokéball fastened onto his belt.

So not only was he subjected to that grating tone of voice once again. Not only did it awaken unwanted memories. And not only did that voice demand that he partake in the highest form of sacrilege East could commit. This time it had leverage.

A kid looked back at him with an insufferable smirk. He was wearing a yellow shirt, and...a backwards hat...and a bandage across his nose – _Arceus, kid, the nineties called, they want their everything back!_

East made a face. _The nineties called,_ _East,_ _they want their insult back,_ he noted sourly.

"What?" he asked, leaning back and crossing his arms as the kid stalked forward. Maybe if he feigned innocence he could get out of this unscathed.

"I wanna battle you!" the kid announced, taking the Pokéball off his belt and holding it out in front of him in the stereotypical 'Red from Kanto' pose. East tried not to vomit.

"Yeah?" he said, trying to keep his cool. "That's nice."

A look of confusion washed over the boy's face, and he looked down at East's belt before back up at him. "...You have a Pokémon, mister. Can we battle?"

East was going to say no. He was going to go tell the kid to cry to his mommy. But after a bit of thought, he realized that Treecko probably needed the experience. "Okay. Show me what you've got."

The kid's face brightened, and he cracked a wide grin. "Alright! Thanks!" He stepped backwards, and threw his Pokéball. Upon hitting the dirt path, a playful-looking Zigzagoon emerged from a burst of white light.

Before sending out his Pokémon, East held up his Pokédex to analyze the Zigzagoon. The only thing of value he got was that it was Level 4. His Treecko was Level 5, so there was a pretty good chance he'd win this. Detaching the Pokéball from his belt, East tossed it in front of him, releasing Treecko. He landed gracefully on the ground, setting his arms out to his side in a sort of 't' formation. East didn't really know why the Pokémon made such a show out of it. It wasn't like anyone important was watching. Or anybody who cared about how graceful he looked. It was a Pokémon battle, not a...

 _Contest_ , East thought sourly. _That had to be the first thing to come to my mind._ _Of course it did. Battles and Contests are the only two things that exist, after all._

Nonetheless, the youngster was looking at East eagerly but wasn't making a move. East had to wonder why. He'd been pretty preoccupied with his cynical thoughts. His Zigzagoon could've given a nasty surprise attack while East had been distracted. And yet he didn't. Stupid kid.

East, after a bit of deliberation, decided on his move. "Alright, Treecko. Start off with a Pound. Strike quick."

With a short nod to show he understood, the Treecko rushed forwards towards the Zigzagoon, who currently had a rather dopey expression. It continued to just stand there as Treecko swept around and smacked the raccoon with his tail. Zigzagoon was knocked onto his side, but he was back up on his feet in seconds, the same absent grin stuck on his face.

With a command from the trainer, Zigzagoon dashed forwards and ploughed into Treecko, blowing him back a respectable distance. Because of the close quarters he'd been after the Pound, Zigzagoon was able to attack without giving his opponent a chance to retaliate. Treecko skidded across the ground, before kicking himself up back onto his feet. His eyes narrowed. The thing hit back. Now it was _personal._

Treecko rushed forward and vaulted overtop of the Zigzagoon, curling his toes against the dirt road. Once he had enough traction, he launched towards the Zigzagoon again, his tail ready for another wallop. The Zigzagoon turned and began to flee, but Treecko's tail smacked into his side, throwing the Zigzagoon to the ground again. He quickly got to all four feet and once again rammed into the Treecko. He was expecting this, however, and while he didn't have the time to counter-attack, Treecko was able to brace himself against the impact, and didn't lose his footing. Treecko stared at the Zigzagoon, who had backed off once he realized he hadn't caught Treecko off-guard like before. They were at a stalemate, both the Pokémon and their trainers deliberating the next move.

The Zigzagoon's dopey smile was gone. The left side of his lip curled up in a snarl, and a low intimidating noise vibrated from his throat. For a moment, Treecko faltered. The Zigzagoon took this moment to dash towards him again, aiming for his chest. Treecko's eyes widened in recognition of the action, and dashed out of the way in the nick of time.

East was smart enough to know that this back and forth wouldn't work. Or at least not well. Treecko would be beat up by the end of the battle, and he wanted to avoid having to make the trek back to Oldale to heal him up, or worse, expend one of his potions. He'd have to go about a different approach to win this battle anything near unscathed. He'd seen a pattern in how the youngster and his Pokémon battled. He waited for Treecko to be distracted, either by the end lag of an attack or by another attack of his own. If he was going to get his Pokémon out of this without any additional health points lost, he'd have to work around that.

But how?

Treecko rushed towards the Zigzagoon again, rearing his fist back for a punch. Zigzagoon braced himself, ready for the impact. Except it never came. Treecko blazed past the raccoon, leaving it more than a little confused. Not one to pass up an opportunity, however, he swiveled around and prepared to punish Treecko for a missed attack. Or he would, if he was able to find him. Zigzagoon swept his eyes around the battlefield, looking for the Treecko.

"Now," East said softly.

A sudden snap above Zigzagoon caused him to look up. There he saw Treecko, careening towards him with a broken branch staff in hand. He brought it backwards, winding up...

 _THWACK_

Zigzagoon collapsed to the ground, a good sized bump on his head. Treecko landed gracefully before driving the staff half a foot into the ground. He locked eyes with East, smirked a little, then closed his eyes and leaned back on the staff...before it broke, and Treecko toppled to the floor.

As the Youngster comforted his Pokémon, East approached Treecko, who was scrabbling to his feet. He hung back a few feet, but gave him an approving nod.

"Good fight, Treecko," he said, returning the Pokémon. He looked at the Pokéball in his hand after Treecko vanished inside, and began to think.

His train of thought was interrupted by the youngster, however. The boy stuck out his hand, expecting a handshake. East didn't really see a reason to refuse. The youngster was above that age where your hands were always sticky, so he wouldn't be getting any unpleasant substances on his palm. He took the boy's hand and gave a good strong shake.

"Thanks for the battle, mister," he said, before digging into his pocket. Before East could question whether he could leave or not, the boy shoved money into his hand. He looked into his palm and found eighty Pokédollars. He looked at the cash in his hand, then back at the boy.

East had forgotten about this. And he was suddenly reminded why so many people decided that being a Pokémon trainer was actually a good idea.

He looked at the youngster as he put the money into his wallet. "...Yeah. No problem." He turned back to Oldale, feeling the extra weight in his pocket the entire way.

* * *

West trembled a little. She was on her fifth cup of coffee, and she was beginning to feel a bit of a buzz in her head. That was usually her sign to stop. She'd ignored the first sign to stop, which was the fact that the Pokémon Center coffee tasted absolutely terrible. But since it was free, West couldn't really complain all that much. So she had kept drinking.

She watched the coffee ripple slightly in the mug in her hand. It was still around six thirty in the morning, which was at the very least one hour too early to be out of bed and drinking a cup of coffee. Which was why she was drinking five cups of coffee.

The door to the Pokémon Center opened, and West turned around, her eyes wide. Who would be coming _into_ the center at this time of day? Crazy people! That would mean that they'd had a battle this early in the morning! Who would have a battle this early? Crazy people! She'd never really seen a crazy person before. She knew that a lot of them wore those straitjackets, but she'd never actually seen one in person. Trying to keep her hands still, she watched as East walked through the door.

Crazy people look like East, apparently.

The crazy person's eyes locked with West's for a moment and he gave a small nod. A crazy nod. Because he's apparently crazy. West would have never pinned it on East to be a crazy guy. But she supposed crazy guys don't look crazy until they go crazy. So did that mean East is past-crazy or future-crazy? As in is-the-past-crazy or will-be-in-the-future-crazy? West's head hurt. Her hands were shaking again. Maybe because of her proximity to the crazy guy. Is crazy contagious? If it is everyone in this Pokémon Center is in huge trouble. Maybe she should yell for everyone to get away from the crazy person. She decided against it though, since Joy was a doctor and if crazy was contagious she'd already be screaming because doctors are smart at finding out whether people are crazy or not.

That buzz was pretty loud now.

The crazy guy was talking with Joy now, putting a ball on the table. Crazily. West felt she was being awfully lax around this crazy guy who also happened to be her travel partner. But there wasn't really much for her to do. If she tried to leave she'd call attention to herself. And crazy people loved giving attention to people who called for it. West had never heard that before, but here it kinda made sense. She wasn't sure why. There wasn't a lot of evidence for it. But it just kinda made sense.

Suddenly West remembered why East had been out in the first place. He was gonna catch that rare Pokémon on Route 102. Now she was really curious! If he was back so quickly, that must mean he got it! She approached him, if a little slowly. He was crazy, after all, and her legs felt a little funny when she walked. Like they might collapse. Maybe she shouldn't have drank five cups of coffee. That might have something to do with this. Maybe it wasn't contagious craziness. Upon some more deliberation, West decided that this was definitely the copious amounts of caffeine coursing through her blood. Now that she was conscious of this, she could probably stop now. Or at least she hoped she could. Crazy people could be really judgemental, and East was already judgemental before he turned crazy. So he'd be double judgemental if he found out that West was hyped on caffeine and that was the reason she was shaking a lot and the reason also why she was so fixated on the word 'crazy' that the word 'crazy' didn't even really seem like a word anymore. If this kept up she'd have to switch to a word like 'loopy' but 'loopy' sounds stupid. It even sounded stupider than the word 'crazy' did, even though 'crazy' seems like nonsense now.

"How many cups did you drink, West?" East asked in a low voice.

"Five!" she yelped, unprepared for the sudden interrogation. "Five!" she said again, just in case he didn't hear. He seemed pretty startled, so maybe he didn't listen the first time.

"...You look like you've been electrocuted."

"Is that a bad thing, cra-East?" She almost let East know that she thought he was crazy. That would be bad. Crazy people get angry really easy and when they're angry crazy people tend to pull chainsaws out of nowhere and start slicing skulls up like watermelons.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't pursue the name. "Well, you look pretty lively, if having a permanent seizure. Maybe I should drink five cups of coffee."

"I have a lot of caffeine," West blurted. "A lot lot."

East smirked. "Yeah. I can tell. If caffeine poisoning is a thing, I'm pretty sure you have it."

"And _that's_ a bad thing!" West exclaimed.

"That's a bad thing," East affirmed.

Joy looked at West. "She's been here pretty much since you left, Eustace," she sighed. "I kinda wanted to tell her to stop, but then it started getting funny with how much she was shaking and stuff. You think we might find out if a coffee hangover exists?"

"Considering we aren't coming back here tonight or in the afternoon, I don't think you're going to find out, no," East said, taking Treecko's ball back and fastening it to his belt.

"Well, keep me updated!" Joy said with a smile. "You have my number and contact info and stuff, right?"

East mumbled a reply.

"Great! Good luck with that rare Pokémon!"

"So..." West blinked. "You _didn't_ catch it?"

Stepping away from the counter, East heaved a sigh. "No, no I didn't. I was stopped by a trainer looking for a battle, and Treecko got roughed up during it. So I brought him back here to top off his HP."

East? In a battle? This early? Yep, he was crazy. Off the wall crazy. He may not be shaking and rambling and breathing really fast and focusing way too hard on the word 'crazy' but at least West's caffeine crazy wore off. Poor East. He'd be crazy for the rest of his life.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"You're staring at me and mumbling something."

"Oh. It's just you're crazy, that's all." West immediately slapped her hands over her mouth. She'd just called him crazy. That was like the one thing she was _not_ supposed to do! Next stop Chainsaw Growl Skull Watermelon Cutting Open City!

East smirked. "You think I'm crazy?"

"No!" West said, putting her shaky shaky hands in front of her. "I mean not entirely! I'm just saying that you got up at five forty-five and you went out to catch a Pokémon that early and then you went and had a battle that early and nobody even gets up that early let alone tries to catch Pokémon or battles that early so I just thought that when I saw the door open that whoever goes through is crazy because nobody catches or trains or battles that early so when you came in I thought 'welp, you're crazy!'"

"Well, I'm not crazy. I'm going back out to get that Pokémon, though."

West gaped. "But it's so _early!_ How on earth can you go out there _again_ after being beaten in a battle?!"

East crossed his arms and frowned. "I wasn't beaten. I won. Treecko just took some hits, is all."

"Uh huh," West said, leaning on the counter. "I'm sure that's exactly what happened..."

"I'm leaving," East announced. "Are you coming?"

"Pfffffffffffffffft," West waved her hands around, pretending to hold back a laugh. Of course, doing it for too little just made it look like she was blowing East off. So she extended it for longer, waving her hands a little more before doubling over and putting them on her shaky shaky knees. Only then did she stop the sound. But then she didn't really want to straighten her back again because suddenly this position felt really comfortable for some reason.

"...I'm guessing that's a no."

"Yeah, no," West wheezed. "Give me another hour."

East turned to walk out the door again. "If I'm not on Route 102, I'm in the café beside the center, okay?"

"Mm'kay," she called, still hunched over. "Good luck!"

East didn't respond. The doors closed, and West was left alone again.

"Hey, if you're gonna barf, go to the bathrooms, 'kay?" Joy said, looking over the counter at her.

West craned her neck to look up at the nurse. "You should really try standing like this. It feels _great._ "

"I'm not listening to a word you say until you stop jittering."

"Fair enough."

West eased herself down onto the floor and curled her knees to her chest. "This is comfortable, too," she decided.

"Good for you. That floor isn't the cleanest, though," Joy warned. "I was supposed to clean it, like, last week, and I kinda forgot."

West suddenly bolted up onto her feet. "...That would have been nice to know like before I actually sat down on it!"

"Come on, West, there are chairs and benches all over this place. Why did you sit on the floor?"

West scuffed her feet. "It seemed like a good idea at the time..."

"Anyways...Eustace just got into his first battle! And he won! Oh, I bet he's gonna be a prodigy, him being a gym leader's son and all," Joy gushed.

"Now listen here, East battled _me_ for his first battle!" West said, jabbing a finger at her excited friend. "I-I mean, I lost too, but that was because I was at a type disad..." West stopped. Wait, how did it go again...? Water beats Fire...Grass beats...Fire? That didn't seem right. What was it again...?

"You were _not_ at a type disadvantage!" Joy picked up the conversation. "He was! And he _won?_ Ooh, he's gonna be so good at battling..."

Okay, crazy was definitely contagious, and Joy contracted it. She must have been Patient Zero, considering how she acted yesterday. Or when they were kids. In Arceus's name, how long had she been crazy!? Was West crazy, too? She and Joy had known each other for a long time, and if Joy was crazy for as long as West was thinking she was, then West's mental state was in big trouble. Maybe. There were a lot of assumptions she was making here, and she was still going through caffeine intoxication. Maybe that wasn't the best combination of activities.

"Where's the nearest seat?" West asked, trying to keep her legs still. It annoyed her that they were vibrating so much. She was going to look like one of those bodybuilders that only worked on leg day and ended up looking like a Medicham.

"There's a bunch of seats by the wall," Joy said, nodding towards them. West twisted her neck around to verify this fact, and there were indeed three or four chairs lined up. Steeling herself, West staggered towards her goal, determined to sit down on a place that was not the Pokémon Center floor. It was her dream. It was her destiny.

It was 6:13 in the morning.

* * *

It was 8:30 in the morning. East was sitting in the café, and he was not feeling good about himself. Four trips. He'd made four trips back to the Pokémon Center after his first talk with West. Every visit after that he'd spotted her passed out on one of the benches. He didn't really like to admit it, but he was getting a little concerned. Drinking five cups of coffee wasn't healthy to anybody, and she'd been asleep on that chair for an hour. It didn't even really look like sleeping. It was more of a coma. And he knew if his mom or dad or Birch or whoever that guy was married to found out he'd be instantly blamed for it.

But those trainers were relentless. They seemed to come in droves, cooperate with walkie talkies or something. East couldn't walk two steps without being challenged by some bright-eyed child rearing for a battle. Couldn't they see he was busy? Couldn't they take a hint? East was pretty sure that he'd poisoned a few of them with his glare alone. But battle after battle happened, and while Treecko had leveled quite a bit, East was growing concerned. He began to see how Treecko was improving, and began to worry that when the actual Ralts showed up he'd knock it out by accident.

An annoying aspect about Pokémon catching and Pokéballs were that they didn't work when the Pokémon was unconscious. The contraptions worked by converting the Pokémon into easily stored physical data. But they scan the Pokémon as they catch them, so they can reassemble the Pokémon at the drop of a hat – or ball. Problem is, it needs to scan the part of the Pokémon being conscious to reconstruct it the first time. So when it's unconscious, the Pokéball has to guess a lot more on the structure of the Pokémon-to-data conversion, and because guessing is bad in reconstruction, it bails.

And herein lies the problem. If Treecko got too powerful, he'd mow through the Ralts with one-hit KOs instead of weakening it. And that would be a problem. So to avoid that from happening, he'd have to avoid experience and other Pokémon like the plague.

He was the only patron there in the café right now, not including Treecko sitting an empty seat away from him. He'd let Treecko out of the Pokéball for the simple reason that he figured he must be as frustrated with the situation as East was. But once his green paws touched the hardwood floor with a painfully apparent silence, it was obvious Treecko did not share East's chagrin. He knew that Treecko had been pretty confused about healing that sliver of health he'd lost in the repetitive battles. He knew that Treecko thought it wasn't necessary. He knew that the look Treecko gave him was one of silent smug inactive insubordination. But hey, he was still doing what East asked, and so East figured that he should reward that kind of behaviour. So he let him out in the cafe and bought him a muffin and herbal tea. The Pokémon had taken the cup and chugged it down like he would a shot of liquor, complete with satisfied sigh after slamming the cup down on the counter. It was like he thought he was in a western movie or something.

East felt a sort of sick feeling watching the Treecko. He wasn't quite sure what it was.

Treecko noticed East was watching him and flashed him a grin. East grunted and turned back ahead of him, towards his lemon-shot coffee.

It was then that the quaint bell above the door jingled happily, singing about someone's entrance. East didn't avert his eyes. Like Pokémon Trainers, elderly people fed on eye contact. As long as you pretended they didn't exist, they most likely wouldn't talk to you.

Someone sat beside him. Internally, he grimaced. Great. Well, at least he had no obligation to look at them. His peripheral vision wasn't as good as a seasoned Pokémon Creeper on Route 102, so he couldn't really tell who it was.

"...Any luck?" a familiar voice asked.

"If I was having any luck," East said with a rough growl, "I wouldn't be staring ahead of me trying to burn a hole in the coffee cabinet with my non-existent heat vision."

West sucked in some air. "Dang. You think maybe I could help somehow? I am a field researcher's daughter."

Normally East would tell her to buzz off. At least in a slightly nicer way. He didn't want her talking to her parents yet. Or at all, if possible. But after this fiasco with Treecko's possibly unwanted strength, West might actually have some useful information about catching Pokémon.

"...What have you got?"

"What's your issue?" West retorted. "If you can pinpoint it I can tell whether I can help or not."

East quickly explained his problem with Treecko and leveling. West nodded.

"First thing that comes to mind is to use a different kind of Pokéball. You've heard of Quick Balls, right?

East nodded. Quick Balls were invented by tech groups in Sinnoh. They worked better the faster you used them on a wild encounter. It, for lack of a better word, preyed on the element of surprise and shock the Pokémon had. The circuits were specialized to focus on the insecurities these emotions produced in the Pokémon. The longer the battle went on, however, the shock inevitably faded as the Pokémon got used to the battle. Unfortunately, they weren't readily available, and pretty expensive to boot. East relayed this to the girl beside him.

She nodded sympathetically. "Yeah...towns don't usually carry them. Cities do, though. There might be some in Petalburg, if you have money to spare for it."

East shook his head. "I'd like to save as much money as possible, and Poké Balls are cheapest."

"Okay, no Quick Balls, then," West mused, putting her pointer finger to her chin. "Lessee...Ralts...Ralts..."

"Any time now," East mumbled.

"Hold on, I'm thinking!" West scoffed. Then she stopped. "...Oh, I know what the problem is."

"Well? What is it?" East asked irritably. "I've been searching all morning and found nothing. I'd really like to be in Petalburg before the end of the week."

West turned to him and smirked. "There's your problem."

"...What?"

She didn't respond at first. Instead she brought out her Pokédex and navigated through it, bringing out the entry for Ralts. "Maybe you'll understand when you read this."

East took the Pokédex and scanned over it. It told him that the horns of Ralts sensed the emotions of nearby organisms. They were naturally attracted to...

"...Positive emotions," East said flatly. "Very funny."

"No, seriously!" West said. "I mean, what happened when you first stepped into that route? You got stopped by a trainer, right?"

East nodded. "Yeah. Freakin' annoying."

"Exactly. So you started out annoyed. And it only got worse from there, right?"

East thought about this...and he was beginning to reconsider the whole Ralts thing. "So you're saying I have to be all sunshine and daisies to even see one of the damn things?"

"And you can't swear, either," she chastised. "But yes. I mean, if you want, I could lead the charge and catch it for you."

East nearly retched. No way. This was his first attempt at catching. And whether he completely despised the concept or not, East was going to catch his first Pokémon himself. Without help.

He was, of course, disregarding the help West had given him already.

"I don't need you to go ahead of me, West. I am actually capable of being happy, believe it or not."

West's mouth gaped. "No freaking way. You're actually capable of a smile past a smug smirk? I would have never thought!"

East got up. "Come on, Treecko," he said. "We need to experience joy."

West made a face. "Ew, what?"

"The concept, not the nurse."

* * *

West was skeptical. East wasn't exactly the most jovial of people, and upon remembering that little bit about emotions and Ralts, she was pretty darn sure East wouldn't be able to catch one on his own. He'd refused her help, too...but that didn't mean she couldn't still give it.

East let out a growl as he encountered a Surskit. The Pokédex told West that this thing had a rarer encounter rate than a Ralts. Poor guy. Must be frustrating...very very frustrating.

West giggled a little. It was pretty amusing, honestly. It was like the entire universe was working against East's hopes and dreams to finally catch that Pokémon. She was reminded that she still hadn't given her Wurmple a name. Removing the ball from her belt, she released the new addition to her team as East encountered another Seedot.

She bent down on the ground to greet the Wurmple. As expected, she instantly began to bolt. West sighed. "Hey, hey, don't worry, I didn't send Chris out. He isn't here."

That stopped her. She turned around slowly, meeting West's eyes with her own fear-filled gaze. Skittish little thing, wasn't she...?

"Come on...I won't hurt you, I promise," she said quietly. As she was coaxing the caterpillar to come closer, she began deliberating on a name. Wormy? No. She smiled and beckoned to Wurmple as she slowly drew closer. Worms...what is it with worms...? She reached out her arms slowly, as to not startle her.

"Come here, Apple," she whispered.

"Ha HA!"

Apple's eyes shot open and she darted towards West, ramming into her before curling up in her lap in a trembling ball.

"East, you scared Apple!" West said, looking over at him.

"There! There's a Ralts!" East pointed vivaciously at a Ralts staring curiously at him and West.

West stood, scooping up Apple into her hands. "Well? What are you waiting for? Catch it!"

Since Treecko had already been out of his ball, he was ready for it. West walked well out of the way and sat down to watch the battle. She figured it probably wouldn't be too exciting – wild Pokémon weren't really experts at strategy, so it'd just be East chipping away at its HP until it was ready for capture. But by the looks of it, the Ralts didn't really seem to be doing much. It was staring at East, not really even paying attention to the Treecko attacking it over and over. She huffed and looked down at Apple.

"Not very exciting, this one," she mumbled. Apple stared at the battle, though her expression told West that Apple wasn't as bored by it. Her gaze was transfixed on Treecko, her eyes reflecting a myriad of conflicting emotions. Of course, she was a Wurmple, so West couldn't exactly read her like she could a human, but she had to admit, Treecko was pretty good about knowing the difference between battling a Pokémon and catching it. He was holding back quite well – something most Pokémon couldn't quite get the hang of. There had been many a time when her father had tried to catch a rare Pokémon, only for his beloved Tropius to knock it out. West loved the guy to bits, but...that Pokémon wasn't really the smartest bulb in the bunch.

She was awoken out of her reverie when she heard the telltale POMF of the Poké Ball absorbing the Ralts in question. She stood up again, and shared East's piercing gaze as the two children watched it wobble back and forth. Or they would've...if it wobbled. Usually, Pokémon struggled inside the Pokéball once a capture was attempted. The data conversion was not painful, but it was a strange sensation the first time, and the Pokémon's mental capacity usually lashed out in protest.

But this Pokéball didn't move.

East crept forward and picked up the ball experimentally. "Did I...did I do it?" he looked at West unsurely.

She walked towards him, offering a hand. East put the prized possession into her palm, and she procured it. "...Yeah, this Ralts is captured. Weird how the ball didn't move, though," she noted, putting it back in East's hand. "We can head to Petalburg now!"

"You can, if you want," East said. "I'm going to go back to Oldale one last time and heal up Ralts, then train her a little. She's kind of underleveled, so I'd like to get her on par with Treecko. Or at least close."

West put her hands on her hips. "Come on, East! I'd like to get to Petalburg sometime this week!"

"Har har," East said. "Don't worry. We won't come back to Oldale after this last visit. You're welcome to go on without me."

"...Eh, I think I'll stay here. Apple and I have got some bonding to do!" she decided, looking down at her Wurmple with a smile. "And I'll try to get her and Chris used to each other."

"Apple? You finally named the thing, huh?" East said, beginning to walk back to Oldale. "You know, you're supposed to do it the moment you catch it."

"I'm a rebel every once in a while," West said with a smirk.

She heard him give a short laugh. "Says the world-renowned Pokémon Professor's daughter."

West frowned a little. What was that supposed to mean?

* * *

 **In battles, for the sake of fluidity, I'm not going to announce most of the trainer's commands. I found that mostly it interrupted the flow of the battle, and was way too clumsy. So I'm omitting commands. If the Pokémon does something against the wishes of the trainer, or does something without leave, I'll be sure to let you guys know.**

 **Pokéball: the general model of the capsule system used to capture Pokémon.  
Poké Ball: the specific red and white model.**

 **inb4: the olfactory lobe doesn't do that idiot**


	8. Chapter 8

**POKÉRUS  
** By Multikirby

 _Chapter 8_

Chris was more than a little frustrated with the situation. He'd been brought out of his Pokéball for the first time since last night, and the first thing West did was start scolding him. He _knew_ that he'd made a mistake in attacking the Wurmple, whom West now apparently called Apple. This annoyed him. He'd thought that West gave him a nickname because he was special. He was her first Pokémon, and the nickname was a sign that he was extra important to her. But if he'd realized that she was going to give nicknames to any old Pokémon that came down the garden path, he wouldn't have endeared himself so much to his.

But Chris wasn't an idiot. Apple was part of the team now – whether he liked it or not – so that meant that he shouldn't beat the stuffing out of her. Chris was a smart Torchic. He knew that. And yet West kept driving the point home that pecking Apple's brains out was not a good idea.

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Chris said indignantly, stamping his talon on the dirt to get his understanding across. Finally, West seemed to get it. Her expression softened. Then she reached for the other Pokéball on her belt.

Wait, she was sending out Apple!? Chris wasn't ready for this!

Five seconds later he was lying on the ground on his back, his talons tied together with string.

 _Maybe you should've spent twenty minutes talking to_ her _, instead!_ Chris thought angrily as West bent down to untie his feet, talking to Apple now. Chris got back to his feet as soon as West finished freeing him, and shot a warning glare to Apple. This didn't help matters, however, for that only served to scare her and attempt another String Shot. Chris, exasperated with the stupid worm, simply stepped to the side.

Chris decided that if this relationship was going to work, he'd need to get it to work himself. He'd have to be the bigger 'mon, and actually reach out to Apple. Because Arceus knows she wouldn't be able to reach out to him. Except with more String Shots.

"Hey, look, I'm not going to attack you anymore, okay?" Chris said, connecting eyes with Apple. He tried to maintain eye contact, but she looked away pretty quickly. With a huff, Chris continued. "We're on the same team now. We're supposed to be friends." He paused. "My name's Chris."

"B-but..." Apple stammered. "But...you're a Torchic..."

Oh, what a joy, now he'd have to explain the concept of nicknames to this thing. "No, no, my _name_ is Chris. It's a nickname West gave me. You know how yours is Apple, even though you're a Wurmple? Well, mine's Chris, even though I'm a Torchic."

"N-no...you're a T-Torchic..." she repeated.

Chris stared in disbelief. Was she serious...? He thought he'd done a good job helping her grasp what nicknames were! Did she really not get it? "Look, I _know_ I'm a Torchic. And my name was Torchic until I teamed up with West. Then she gave me a nickname, and that nickname is Chris. So while I am still a Torchic, my name is-"

"You don't get it," Apple suddenly interrupted.

 _Okay, what?!_ Chris thought adamantly. _I don't get it?! How can I not get it if I'm explaining it to you?!_ Chris felt his insides boiling. If he were a less civilized Torchic, he would've burst into flames and scorched Apple twenty times over by now.

"You're a Torchic...I-I'm a Wurmple..." she said quietly. "...We can't be friends."

As if a bucket of water had been poured over him, Chris's anger was instantly doused. "...What?"

"...We don't mix," she said quietly, keeping her distance and her eyes averted. "You're a bird...I'm a bug...you're fire...I'm flammable...you're a boy...I'm a girl...we don't mix."

Chris didn't really get what those last two had to do with anything, but he actually started to feel a little sad for her. "...Well, I don't think that's true, necessarily," he said carefully.

"...Are you flirting with me?" she asked in a level voice.

Chris was taken aback. What?! He'd been talking to her for, what, twenty seconds?! And now she was accusing him of flirting with her! "No! Of course not!"

"...Why do you think we could be friends?" she asked.

"Well, uh..." Chris was still in shock about the 'flirting' accusation. "...I mean, we're both West's Pokémon, and...I think if we're going to be on a team it'd be better if we could tolerate each other?"

Apple seemed to think this over. "You hurt me, though. Am I just supposed to forget that?"

The Torchic winced. This would be hard to explain. If he told her that West told him to do it, then she might end up hating her. But if he took the blame, she'd hate _him._ Why did women have to be so darn complicated? "Well, it was...part of becoming the team. I won't hurt you again, I promise. We needed to do that."

"Why?"

"It's part of the capturing process."

"How do you know?"

"I was under the care of a very smart human that specializes in studying Pokémon."

"So you're domestic."

"I-" Chris stiffened. Domestic...? He wasn't domestic! He was a flame of undying potential, ready to turn into a blazing forest fire at a moment's notice! How dare she call him domestic!?

Apple looked off to the side. "I get what you're saying," she continued after Chris failed to supply an answer. "It would be more convenient if we were able to talk a little less awkwardly. But I don't think it's going to happen anytime soon. Don't get your hopes up."

"Fine. Be that way," Chris huffed, ruffling his feathers. If she wasn't going to at least give him something to work with, he might as well write her off as a lost cause.

He heard West's voice call from a small distance away. Looking over, he'd seen that she had been talking with her friend. Chris didn't know what to think about East. He was kind of aloof. Chris felt a little sorry for the Treecko in East's care. Could it even be called care? Did East even spend any time with him?

He was called again and, shooting a frustrated glare in Apple's direction, he trotted towards West obediently.

* * *

East looked out of the corner of his eye at the Torchic as he approached, and took a small step back. Chris stopped no less than what must have been three inches away from West's feet, looking up at her. West cooed a little and bent down, scratching the side of his head. Chris chirped happily in response, rubbing into her hand. He looked over at the Wurmple, who was hanging back. Then he looked back at Chris.

 _Is he sucking up to her?_

"Well, I'm off," West said, craning her neck to look back up at East. "You know where to meet me, right?"

"Pokémon Center at three o' clock," East repeated. "Are you sure little East is going to be alright on his own in the big scary world, mommy?"

West got up and stuck out her tongue. "Don't forget to hydrate," she said, signaling for Apple to follow her. As she approached, East looked down at Chris, who quickly moved to the other side of West's feet. He smirked a bit – he briefly wondered exactly what went down between the two Pokémon.

He'd been stopped by West not two seconds after they'd said their goodbyes when she had realized that this would be the perfect opportunity for him to ditch her. East hadn't forgotten that she was a chaperone, and apparently she hadn't either. Of course, she was being completely paranoid, since he didn't plan to ditch her until after they got to Rustboro, but East commended her thorough aptitude for the job. East had thought that it would be the end of the discussion when they figured out a time and place to rendezvous, but West kept on trucking along, saying how Petalburg City sold more things and there were a bunch of activities there and yadda yadda yadda. For a chaperone, West played her part of 'excited travel partner' very well.

West waved as she continued down the route to Petalburg. East checked his PokéGear for the time. The screen blipped on with an unnecessary ping and displayed 11:08AM.

He had four hours to train his new Ralts, West-free. He turned on his heel, heading back to Oldale. He'd have to heal her up first, obviously, as she'd just been weakened and caught. After this short trip, however, it'd be nose to grindstone until about two thirty, when East would head for Petalburg before West blew a gasket.

The familiar town came into view quickly. East was well versed with this route – he'd gone back and forth on it when trying to catch a Ralts, and he wagered that forty years from now he'd be able to give an inch-by-inch recounting of the entire damned route. Upon entering Oldale, he headed straight for the Pokémon Center, though he was tempted by the adjacent cafe. Shaking his head, he decided to stop by before he left, but not until after he'd healed the Ralts. Watching his reflection part as the electronic glass doors to the Center slid open, East began to ponder whether he should let Ralts out in the cafe. After all, as far as she knew, East had just ordered a Pokémon to beat her up until she was weak, and then imprisoned her in a ball. That probably wasn't the best note to leave a Pokémon on for long, so buying her something at the cafe could up her morale and lower her rebellitude.

"Oh, hey! You're back!" Joy's voice derailed his train of thought, sending it careening into the pit of loathing.

"Can you heal this one?" he said as he removed Ralts's ball from his belt, believing that perhaps if he treated her like a volunteer rather than an acquaintance, she might not try to get into his head any more than she already did.

"Of course, right away!" she said, taking the ball and placing it on the machine. He stared at her back, praying that he could keep staring at it until the process was finished...but she turned around, and he had to quickly avert his eyes up to her face.

"So what are you here for?" she asked as she leaned on the counter nonchalantly, twirling her hair with a finger.

"To heal my Pokémon," East said blankly.

Joy burst into a fit of laughter, slamming her hand down on the counter. "You're funny! I like that!" She went silent again, waiting for some sort of response.

East didn't oblige.

"Where's West?" Joy pressed, absolutely unwilling to let the conversation drop.

"She headed on to Petalburg," he said. "I'm staying behind for now."

"Ah, okay," Joy said with a nod. "So you'll be leaving soon?"

"Yep."

"Aww, I'm not going to see you again, then?" she continued, pouting.

"Yep."

"Well...keep in touch," she said, looking back and removing Ralts's ball from the machine. "Here's your Ralts! Have a good day!"

"Yep." Without another word, East turned around and exited the Pokémon Center, a bad taste in his mouth. If he knew every visit would be like that, he wouldn't have gone. He would've just dealt with it, or spent some cash on Potions, Arceus forbid. But at least this would be the last time he'd have to go to the Oldale Pokémon Center and endure Joy's excruciatingly perky voice and infuriatingly obvious flirting. He wasn't even a teenager yet! How could he be expected to settle down with a girlfriend? At this age they were supposed to think the other gender had cooties or something.

He turned towards the route, but stopped when he saw the cafe off to the side. He shouldn't be spending his money so haphazardly, especially since the kids that he trounced on the route weren't exactly rolling in it either – which meant that they didn't give him too much. But...he decided that he wanted to get off on the right foot with his new Pokémon. Taking the red and white balls off of his belt, he made his way to the cafe and released the two Pokémon. Treecko gave him a glance before heading towards the doors of the cafe. Ralts, however, wasn't as quick. She was still looking around, as bewildered as when she had been caught. She swept her head around before looking up at East questioningly.

"We're here to eat something," East said simply. He quickly proceeded to turn and walk towards the doors of the cafe, hoping that he wouldn't have to drag the Pokémon in with him. If she didn't follow, that was her problem. If she didn't go in after him, she could wait outside until they were finished.

This turned out not to be a concern, for the Ralts stuck close to East's heels. So close, in fact, that he had to shuffle awkwardly to avoid kicking her. He didn't want a powerful psychic angry at him for kicking her in the face, so having her walk right behind him was making him a little nervous. He didn't give any sign, however, and opened the door for Treecko and Ralts. They hurried inside on East's insistence, and he followed them promptly.

Almost instantly Treecko began conversing with Ralts in an animated manner. East watched them walk up to the counter, wishing he could understand them. He frowned deeply and took a seat. They spoke an actual phonetic language. That much had been proven by biologists and linguists. Their chirrups and chirps and chattering was incredibly close to human language. When coupled with their body positioning, their facial expressions, and their tonal inflections, it was possible to understand Pokémonspeak to an extremely specific degree. Some people had even mastered it and appeared on TV every so often. _So why,_ East thought bitterly, _are there no lessons for understanding Pok_ _é_ _mon?_ They understand humans fine. Even just two minutes ago, Ralts had shown she understood East's _connotational suggestion_ to get into the cafe. Of course, from an objective perspective she had simply followed her trainer, but Ralts understood. So why couldn't humans take the same step? He'd read something about lessons beginning to be offered in schools in Johto, but he wasn't in Johto anymore. He was in Hoenn. And as far as he knew, Hoenn didn't even have schools at all.

East sat down at the counter, looking up at the menu above – though at this point it was mostly for appearance. East knew exactly what he was going to get. Remembering what he'd promised his Pokémon, he surmised it'd probably be a good idea not to break deals with gecko dryads or psycho-humanoids. So he began scanning the menu again, searching for something Treecko and Ralts could eat.

He heard a _thwump_ sound beside him. Startled, he jerked his head to look at the noise and saw Treecko on the neighbouring stool, grinning up at him like he'd just switched the caps between red and blue felt pens. Drawing his mouth into a thin line, East got up from the stool and moved left once, to the edge seat of the counter. About twenty seconds later he heard another soft _thwump._ Sighing in annoyance, he turned to see not Treecko, but Ralts sitting directly next to him. Treecko was on the ground, scuttling back to his stool.

 _The bugger!_ East realized irately what Treecko had just done. Shooting a heated glare to the gecko, Treecko simply returned a wide grin. East had just tried to draw the sky, and it came out looking like blood. Growling, East got up from his stool, about to move to the next adjacent one...when he realized that he was already on the edge seat. Sitting back down, he rested his head in his hands. Treecko began to laugh. Not only had East drawn a blood-sky, but he had just made it purple by frantically colouring blue on top of it in a frantic attempt to fix it.

Ralts, on the other hand, was staring up at East as if he had just tried to draw the sky and accidentally painted a Renaissance-worthy mural of complex constellations contrasting brightly against the dark blue of clear heavens.

East twisted his head to face Treecko's smirking visage. He granted the Pokémon about two second's worth of attention before turning to the barista and placing his order. "One lemon shot cappucino, and one cheri danish."

That shut Treecko up. Out of the corner of his eye, East noticed that both Ralts and Treecko were staring at him with varying expressions of confusion.

East turned to the two Pokémon, swiveling on the head of the stool. "I'm going to be straight with you both. I brought you two here for different reasons. Ralts, the reason I brought you was to ease you into the team. Treecko, I brought you because you had good behaviour when we were on the route. Key words: good behaviour."

He watched Treecko's face, waiting for the substrate and reactant to combine. Slowly, Treecko's eyes began widening. Like a fluid machine, his shoulders hunched, and his arms came up in a halting position. And as if a dam broke, he began spurting forth defensive arguments. The corner of East's mouth stretched into an arrogant grin as Treecko's expression became an odd yet fitting mixture of horror and hunger.

"The danish is for Ralts," he said – the final nail in the coffin. A gurgling noise came from Treecko's throat, and he clutched his chest as if suffering cardiac arrest. With a stiffened spine, Treecko toppled off of the chair and fell to the floor with a dull thud.

East didn't pay him any attention. He was staring at the wall in front of him, deliberately ignoring Treecko's theatrics. It was painfully obvious to East that the guy was vying for his attention. Processing this new information, he decided that he could give out the coveted assiduity in some sort of reward system, like dangling a carrot in front of a Ponyta.

Not that he had any first-hand experience in that or anything.

But as he diverted his gaze from the writhing Treecko on the floor, East was irked by a prickling sensation on his side. He knew it well from his home life in Johto. Many a time had he spent in his bedroom in Olivine with the door closed, earbuds plugged in. And he'd felt this same sensation every time the door creaked open and a parent peeked in to look at him, pressuring him to go do something with his life.

He looked down at the Ralts. Her expression hadn't changed from earlier, those eyes of wonderment still fixated on him for some reason.

"The danish is coming," he said. He didn't really get why she was staring at him, so he figured a good guess would be hunger or impatience. To his satisfaction, he heard another tortured gurgle come from the floor beside him. Well, at least Treecko was still hung on every single word he was saying.

But Ralts's expression didn't change when he reassured her about the danish. So impatience wasn't it. Then what was she staring at him for?

His speculation was interrupted by the dainty _clink_ of ceramic dishes hitting the counter. He looked over to see the danish and coffee in front of him. Giving a sideways glance to Treecko, East laughed a little through his nose. Giving way to a short sigh, he grabbed the attention of the barista, pointed at the danish, and held up two fingers. The barista nodded and walked over to the kitchen.

Clearing his throat, he pushed the dish towards Ralts. "This is for you," he announced, louder than usual. "Enjoy."

He watched Treecko's head shoot up in an almost panicked manner. He quickly scrambled to his feet and sat down on the stool beside Ralts, folding his paws into his lap and staring ahead of him. And in that pose he froze, spine stiff as a board. _How cute,_ he thought. _He's trying to be formal._

Ralts, in the meantime, had not taken her eyes off of East. The boy, now vexed with the little Psychic Pokémon, pointed to the danish. "This is for you. Eat it."

Finally, she was able to tear her eyes away from East to look at the pastry beside her. She raised her hands and gingerly grasped the danish, lifting it up to her mouth. Her lips parted, and she began to insert the foodstuff into her mouth. But she stopped, just shy of being able to bite into it. As if asking permission, she turned to East again.

He stared at her in disbelief. _Are you serious?!_ His thoughts screamed inwardly. _You were almost there!_

Jerking in shock, Ralts stuffed the danish into her mouth, quickly looking down at her lap in shame. His heart dropping, East swiftly remembered what West and the Pokédex had said about Ralts.

 _...the horns of Ralts sense the emotions of nearby organisms._

Bringing his hands to his face, East groaned inwardly. He'd basically just cursed her. He'd given her a cheri danish and then erupted at her in an outburst of negative emotions. Maybe that had been why she was staring at him. Great. Now his first impressions with her were marred, and with an emotional wreck like this, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to fix it.

He turned back front and rested his head in his hands, letting out a huff.

"I'm guessing you're regrettin' some thoughts a' yours, ey?" the barista said, leaning casually on the counter.

East didn't give her a response. Who was she to delve into his business?

"You know the thing about Ralts, ey?" she continued. "Finkin' positive emotions an' stuff, ey?"

He merely grunted in response. He'd already heard this spiel from West – he didn't need it from a random stranger, too.

"A'ight, a'ight," she said, holding up her hands. "I ain't braindead, I can take a hint. Jes' finkin' I might be able to get fixin' your conundrum 'ere."

Trying to decipher her thick accent, East figured that she was offering to help him with Ralts. How the heck did this girl land the job of a barista with a voice this heavy? If East came into this café looking to talk to someone, he wouldn't want to spend five seconds per sentence to interpret what was fundamentally a different language just to converse with someone.

"I've heard this song before," he said, looking up at the ceiling. "Just think happy thoughts."

"Nah, t'aint that simple," she said. "Them Psychic-Types are all kinds a' advanced, ey? So's you gotta treat 'er almost like y'would a person."

"...What are you saying?"

"Say you're sorry!"

 _To a Pokémon?_ East thought in confusion. _But...it's a Pokémon. Why would I-_

Ralts let out a sniff and buried her head in her arms.

East realized in an exponentially growing sense of horror that even his own headspace wasn't a safe haven with her around anymore.

"...I'm sorry, Ralts," he said quietly. "I...let my anger get away from me, and...I'm sorry."

Ralts held her head in her hands. She wouldn't look at East anymore. He felt a pang in his chest, like a needle had settled itself in his left ventricle and was now drilling itself out. This was guilt. And that was followed with a quick response of dread.

East could not afford to feel guilty. Guilt was almost never good for someone – like depression, guilt was a surpressor. It stopped you from doing things. And for East, the things that he did mattered to him, so he couldn't afford to not do them. So he had to get rid of this guilt as soon as he could. But what could he do?! With this thing basically bawling its eyes out next to him, and East out of diplomatic options, things seemed hopeless. He had to think...but not too hard, otherwise Ralts would get it.

 _Okay, East. Think of a typical trainer with its Pokémon. Now imagine that they have an unnaturally strong bond between them. What did they do to achieve that bond?  
-spend a lot of time together (long-term, null)  
-accomplish something_ _monumental as a team (not an option, null)  
-bribing (shallow relationship, requires extensive funds, null)  
-Luxury Ball (requires extensive funds, null)  
-nickname_

East wrinkled his brow. A nickname. Most trainers that had special attachments to their Pokémon had some sort of nickname attached to them. Not only would coming up with one be easy, but nicknames were commonly referred to as 'terms of endearment' and endearment was a positive emotion and positive emotions were what East needed right now. So he'd have to come up with a nickname for Ralts...

"...Cardinal," he said finally, delicately placing a hand on her shoulder. "I didn't mean to lose my temper."

She finally broke her line of sight with the floor and connected gazes with East again. Well...at least calling her something other than 'Ralts' did something.

This time, though, she'd angled her head so that East had a clear view of her vivid red eyes as they began to brim with tears.

 _Gah, what did I do this time?!_ East thought in exasperation. _Does she not like the name Card-_

He was stopped when he felt something wrap around his waist. He raised his arms as if he'd been drenched in rain, and looked down. Cardinal had begun hugging him, resting her head on his chest. A warm feeling surged through East like a tremor rippling across uneven ground, heralding a warning of crushing buildings in a merciless decimation of the fragile earth below it. His mind was stranded on a skyscraper, watching the city around it tumble and fall to a pitiful rubble. His flesh began to burn.

He stayed absolutely still.

* * *

Exposed? No, not exposed. Frightened? No, she wasn't frightened, either. But 'awe' didn't really capture what she was feeling either.

This was new territory. This was Petalburg City. _City._ She'd only spent time in one city in her life before, and that had been Lilycove. She often ventured out into the wilderness of the region with her father, but the thing about field research was that it didn't really apply in an urban ecosystem. While it wasn't unheard of to encounter wild Pokémon in cities, most of them stuck to the great outdoors of routes, mountains, caves, seas, and what-have-yous of the Hoenn region. This meant that while West had been all over the region's natural habitats, she hadn't really spent much time touring what humans have accomplished.

Buildings rose up around her in coordinated grids, gigantic pillars of glass and concrete towering over the girl. West bit her lip, counting the windows and floors leading up to the top. Some of these buildings were three stories high! She felt like a bug crawling through a cavern, with strange square stalagmites erupting up from the ground around her. Overwhelmed, she lowered her head to look at her feet scuffing the sidewalk below her. Frowning, she tried to remember what she was planning on doing while East was grinding – all those buildings made her lose focus. She remembered where she was supposed to meet him. She just couldn't pinpoint what she was supposed to do until then.

Well...perhaps she could just walk around and look for some sort of tourist trap or info station to pass time. Looking behind her shoulder, West saw the small route-house she'd entered through. Those things were common at the borders to routes and cities. They usually had someone stationed within them, ready to give little quips about the city. She might be able to find something to do in there. _But it's so far,_ she whined internally. She'd already walked two minutes' worth away, and that'd be two minutes back, and then she'd have someone telling her exactly HOW to enjoy herself. No thanks. She preferred to wander.

Problem: wandering in a city as big as this was liable to get you lost. When she'd been in Lilycove with her dad, he was careful to tell her in extremely specific detail a story about a little girl who wandered off on her own and was kidnapped by a Drifloon, never to be seen again. Along with giving West globophobia, this story made sure that she wouldn't wander aimlessly and stick to her father's side for the entire trip. West was older now, yes, but like her fear of balloons, the slight fear of aimless wandering never really went away. So she figured she might as well get either a map or some sort of directions. She wanted to make sure that she could get to the Center at the drop of a hat, in case time got away from her.

She walked into the closest building, past doors that opened by themselves somehow. She suspected Psychic-Types, but then again, why would they waste potential like that to simply remove the need to pull open doors? Shaking her head to clear it of that train of thought, she walked into the building. The air was somewhat stale, though quite a bit cleaner than the smog-scented atmosphere outside. There was a gentle whirr of air-conditioning cranked on a little too high. West shuddered a bit and hiked her purse up higher onto her shoulders. She figured that the owners of the building were preparing for the afternoon, when it had been forecast to get a lot warmer. The actual building, however, was quite different.

The slight creak of tatami mats made themselves known as West stepped up. It looked almost oriental with its set-up, like the sort of buildings sometimes found in Kanto. There was a man standing next to a statue, smiling with a grin that came off as slightly too wide.

"Excuse me," she said, walking up to him. "Where is this?"

"This is the Petalburg City Gym, champ in the making!" he said loudly.

His voice reminded West of that guy that did commercials on TV sometimes. Deep, somewhat gravelly, and over-the-top dramatic.

"Gym..." West repeated. Suddenly her eyes widened, and she gasped. "Oh! So Norman's here!"

"You got that right!" he said, flashing her a thumbs-up. "He specializes in Normal-Types, some of the most versatile Pokémon on the planet! Like clay in the hands of an artisan, a Normal-Type can adapt to any situation!"

"Uh huh," West said, nodding politely. "Anyways, do you think I could see Norman quickly? I want to talk to him." She paused a moment, then spoke up again. "Oh, and I don't want to battle here just yet. I just want to talk."

The man frowned in thought. "Hmm...alright, if you give me your name and reason, I can ring Norman up for ya."

"Westrose Birch. I wanted to talk to him about Eustace."

* * *

"Confusion after he takes the first attack," East said, studying the Zigzagoon across from him carefully.

East had been right about his hunch on Psychic-Types. They were incredibly intelligent. Cardinal wasn't even level 10 yet, and already he was able to issue complex commands. Treecko was either less willing or less capable. But he was already at level 11, so East was focusing on Cardinal and her training. And even though she only knew one attack move – Confusion – she was already getting stronger at a very quick rate.

The Zigzagoon zipped towards Cardinal, his path predictably erratic, his facial expression somehow simultaneously vacant and determined. Cardinal jerked to the left as the Zigzagoon did, swiveling her head to watch him zip past her. She swiveled on her heel and held out her hands towards the Zigzagoon. The air hummed as the wild Pokémon writhed a bit before being thrown back. Confusion wasn't that strong of a move to begin with, but it seemed to have a substantial effect on the Zigzagoon. East looked down at his Pokédex. The Zigzagoon was weak from just one attack. Not only that, but the desired side effect of Confusion had taken place.

Zigzagoon whipped his head around, eyes somewhat more distant than usual. His lips rolled back into a snarl and he darted forwards again, intent on making Cardinal regret ever crossing his path.

Instead of that, his forehead contacted with the trunk of a tree, and he fell to the ground, fainted.

 _That was too easy,_ East thought with a frown. _Card isn't going to get much experience here anymore. It's time to move on._

East wasn't stupid. He knew what this meant. He was going to have to go to Petalburg now. And that no doubt meant an encounter with his father.

He looked up at the canopy of trees above him, letting out a frustrated groan. He hadn't asked for any of this. He didn't want to be a trainer, he didn't want to take on the challenge, he didn't want a Treecko, he didn't want Pokéballs, he didn't want to travel, he didn't want to battle or inherit the gym or move to Hoenn. But he did. He was doing all those things and he hated it.

A tug at his pants leg broke him out of the spell. He looked down at Cardinal, who was staring up at him with a worried expression.

"I'm fine," he said. "Let's go to Petalburg."

She shook her head and pointed down the route a ways. Following her directions, East's eyes met with a familiar tail peeking out from the trunk of a tree.

Treecko, ever since he'd began training Cardinal, had gotten pretty cranky. He had kept getting in the way of the battles, trying to distract East from his training. He'd threatened to put him back in his Pokéball if he didn't stop interfering, and since then he hadn't seen him.

"Hey, Treecko," East called. "We're leaving."

The tail flopped on the ground once. A signal he'd heard. But no movement.

"Are you coming, or are we going to leave you here?" he said.

He heard a quiet growling noise come from the gecko. What was his problem...? Eh. He'd leave, and Treecko would follow after him. No big deal. He shrugged and began walking towards Petalburg. Cardinal, however, wouldn't have it. She kept tugging on his leg, trying to get him to stop.

"I know what I'm doing," East said quietly, not looking down at her, or back at Treecko.

The tugging stopped. East sighed in relief and kept walking. It was only after about a minute and a half that he realized that he wasn't hearing Cardinal's footsteps either. Looking back at the route, he saw the little Ralts running back towards Treecko...who was still sitting at the tree. He wasn't following. Drumming his fingers against his side, he tried to crane his head to make eye contact with Treecko, but he wouldn't cooperate.

Letting out a breath of exasperation, East followed Cardinal's footsteps to where Treecko was sitting. "What's your problem?" he said once he was within earshot. He stopped in front of the gecko, putting his hands on his hips.

Treecko narrowed his eyes and looked away. His heavy tail was thumping rhythmically on the ground behind him. East remembered his dad's Delcatty did something similar when it was annoyed.

...Oh.

"Are you jealous or something?" he said. "Because I was training with Cardinal? Is-"

East was interrupted, for the moment he said the word 'Cardinal', Treecko slammed his fist against the tree he was leaning on.

"...You don't like Cardinal?"

A screech came from Treecko's throat as he grasped at his face. Curling his legs up, Treecko huddled into a ball, muffled screaming emanating from his vocal chords.

Cardinal looked over at East, but didn't offer any sort of feedback.

East, for his part, was trying his hardest to figure out what the heck Treecko was trying to say. He'd reacted negatively whenever he mentioned Cardinal's name, and yet he wasn't leering at Cardinal, or attacking Cardinal, or anything. He hadn't even looked at her. So if he didn't hate Cardinal, then...well, there were two other options. He hated himself, or he-

Suddenly East froze. Treecko was staring straight at him, his eyes ablaze with anger. East's heart began to race, and he moved back a step, finding it hard to breathe. It was him. Treecko hated him. The elemental superpowered combat-trained grass gecko hated East.

 _Treecko stands up, his small fists clenching and unclenching. His eyes turn a blood-red, his dark as night pupils locked on the poor boy frozen in fear. Raising his right arm, Treecko's mouth turns into a psychotic grin, his teeth almost a picture-perfect image of a crescent moon askew. The analogy, however, was marred by the red streams of blood marking his murderous intent. His hand begins to glow a bright sickly green, energy of the forest gathering into what would unquestionably be a fatal blow. Before East even had the time to scream, a physical beam of ferocious energy tore into his chest, draining his life force from his very body until he closes his eyes for the last time._

East wasn't going to give him that chance. He turned and ran.

Feet pounding on the hard trodden dirt, East sprinted through the forest with no real path of escape in mind. The only thing going through his head was distance. How far was he from the homicidal beast behind him? Stealing a glance to his six, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. This did not let him relax. East didn't have much time to escape. Treecko was a lot of things, but slow wasn't one of them. He heard a twig snap behind him.

Treecko wouldn't let that happen on accident. Treecko was taunting him.

His lungs began to burn as he kept running against his body's wishes. He was going to die if he let up. His eyes stung from the wind, trying to wave the branches and things away from him as the forest tried to grab him, trap him. Treecko was manipulating the branches, he knew it. He had no chance.

Something caught his foot, and he crashed into the unforgiving forest floor, thorns tearing into his sleeves, brushing past his skin. He clawed hysterically at the ground, trying to dislodge his foot from the tree root that had caught it, but try as he might, the ancient fiber kept its death grip on the boy. He bent over, contorting himself in an attempt to wrench his foot free. He couldn't. He was trapped. East was a dead man.

He stayed absolutely still.

The forest was ruthless. It went on chirping and talking and flowing without him, as if he wasn't there. The forest didn't care that East was about to die. Many things died here every day – what made East different? The fact that he was human? Humans were animals, just like everything else. The fact that they were smart meant nothing when they were lying on the floor, trapped like a Pachirisu in the paws of a Purrloin.

He couldn't muster the strength to even shiver. His eyes were shut, and he waited for whatever was to become of him. He only prayed to Arceus that it'd be quick.

 _thip thip thip thip_

Those were footsteps. He was coming. Slowly...so slowly. East's mind flashed back to the cafe, Treecko's wide grin. He was wearing that right now, he imagined. He was watching East, observing him, laughing silently at his helplessness.

 _thip thip thip thip_

East felt something settle on his back. It was a paw. It was Treecko's paw. He imagined it glowing that sickly shade of green and braced for the cold embrace of death.

Suddenly something rammed into his hip. He gasped and writhed on the ground. Anger surged through East. So, killing him wasn't enough? Treecko had to hurt him first? Groaning, he rolled onto his side and looked at the Pokémon.

Treecko was looking down at him with his arms crossed. His paws weren't glowing, his mouth wasn't dripping with the blood of the innocent, his eyes weren't glistening with the urge to kill...honestly he just seemed kind of annoyed.

"...What...?" East tugged at his foot again. He attempted to regain whatever dignity he had left in the situation by straightening his hat out and looking at Treecko condescendingly. Of course, there were a few things that hindered this effort: Treecko's equally condescending look, the fact that East's foot was still snared in a tree root, and the very recent event of East running away like a wuss from someone who – now that he was thinking rationally – probably wasn't really going to hurt him anyways. "...What?" he said again.

Treecko began tapping his foot, drumming the digits of his paw against his right arm. Impatience.

Now East really didn't get what Treecko was going for. What did he want? "What?" he said, louder now.

Treecko groaned and slapped his forehead with his paw. He crouched down and pointed at his foot, then at East's, which was trapped.

"Yeah, my foot's stuck. What's your point?"

Treecko, instead of showing any more signs of exasperation, walked over to the root, and tapped on East's shoe. East swiveled on his back to get a better look at him. Treecko, once seeing that East was looking at him, tapped East's shoe again, then pointed over his shoulder with the digit most resembling his thumb.

"..." East tried to think about what he was saying. "...The..."

 _Click._

 _Damnit._

Robotically, East sat up, undid his laces, and took his shoe off. He once again tugged at the root, and his foot came free with ease. Drawing his mouth into a thin line, he stared at his foot, now free, and at the shoe in his hands. Finally, his eyes came to rest on Treecko, who once again wore that trademark grin from the café.

East hastily put his shoe back on and scrambled to his feet. He crossed his arms and looked off in the distance, letting out a huff of air through his nose. East held that pose for a few moments, trying to convince himself that if he did it long enough he could salvage at least a shred of his dignity. Ultimately, however, East gave it up. His arms fell to his sides, and he gazed down at the ground sullenly.

"Alright. You got me."

East wasn't looking at him. His eyes were nowhere near him. And yet he could still feel Treecko's stare boring into his skull. He wanted something. But East didn't know what he wanted. He didn't hate Cardinal. He didn't want to _kill_ East, but he was definitely miffed about something he'd done.

Those Johto lessons were sounding pretty damn good right about now.

"...What do you want from me?" he said, his voice cracking. He finally mustered the nerve to look up at Treecko. The grin was gone, replaced with a somewhat anticipative expression. He stepped closer, though East noticed that he was rather slow about it. He wasn't sure how to take that.

"...Where's Cardinal?" he experimented, watching Treecko's reaction. He was expecting him to have a negative reaction. He'd had one every other time Cardinal's name had been mentioned, so he half-expected Treecko to glare. He didn't, however. He jerked his head behind him and to the left. East looked where he'd indicated and saw Cardinal peeking out from behind a tree. Well, at least Treecko hadn't left her behind.

But Treecko's stare didn't dissipate, much to East's chagrin. He still wanted something. He still...

Cardinal. He had gotten mad every time he'd said Cardinal, but he was mad at East.

He wanted a nickname.

He thought back to the café. Treecko had been making East uncomfortable on purpose, and got a laugh out of it. After figuring out he wanted attention, he neglected Treecko on purpose. He gave Cardinal a nickname to pacify her, and shortly after they left. Treecko, while they had been training, had grown more and more sulky and distant.

"...How does Cheshire sound?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Good God, I'm back! Hoo, boy. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long, but I'm finally back, got my diploma, got another musical under my belt, and got tons of time to continue this story! It ain't dying on me yet!**

 **Also, note: even though Pokémon Sun and Moon versions are GUARANTEED to come out before I finish this story (probably) I'm going to give minimal reference to that region in this story, if at all. The reason right now is because I want to get into that region blind and without the hype culture. The reason (probably) when it comes out is when I suddenly start referencing a region that didn't exist for the first part of the story, it'll become weird and stinted. Something I want to avoid. So don't expect any references to Poké-Hawaii anytime soon(probably). Unless I change my mind, or decide where it fits. This story (probably) is (probably) pre-Gen VII (probably probably)!**

* * *

 **POKÉRUS  
** By Multikirby

 _Chapter 9_

A rhythmic creaking and cracking sounded off underneath West's feet. _Tatami,_ she thought, _is a very strange choice for gym flooring._

She knew it was supposed to be atmospheric. But imagining epic Pokémon battles here was hard when each move and step and such was accompanied with the wooden equivalent of a groaning old man. Still, she had to give credit where credit was due – it definitely was atmospheric. Everything radiated a...what was the word they used...? Kanto-jin sort of feel. She was pretty sure that was right, using Kantonese as the language. It felt like she was in a historical Kanto or Johto house. The smell of bamboo drifted through the air, along with the lingering scent of tea and incense. It was almost comical how much _atmosphere_ this place had.

Of course, the trainers were different. She'd expected them, from the look of the Gym, to be in traditional Kanto or Johto historical garb. But when she encountered the first one telling her to fight, she noticed that the guy was sporting a sleek red jacket, and had a full head of _green hair._ Definitely not traditional. She was almost a little disappointed. But nonetheless, she quickly explained that she wasn't here to battle them, and passed through the rest of the rooms. She was here to talk to Norman.

It wasn't anything _too_ serious. She just wanted to have a friendly chat with him. Like any friend would do with the parent of one of their friends. Except...she was doing it behind East's back. Decidedly less normal, but hey, travel the road less taken. Or whatever the saying was. She wasn't entirely sure, but she was set on justifying why she was here in the gym in the way of just a friendly chat. She wouldn't admit to herself that she had at least somewhat selfish reasons. But like she'd subconsciously told herself, she wasn't going to admit that.

Eventually she arrived at the final chamber. Her heart skipped a beat as the final door slid out of the way, revealing a very intimidating figure standing at the opposite end of a very professional looking Pokemon Battle arena. This was Norman Erdet. East's father, leader of the Petalburg Pokémon Gym, and expert on the Normal Type. His short black hair was neatly combed and cared for, framing a stoic expression on a hard weathered face. His eyes pierced into West's as she entered the room, his strong hands folded against his arms as he regarded the girl.

Suddenly, he relented his expression, the corners of his mouth turning up. "So, Westrose. I heard from your old man that you finally got your first Pokemon. Are you here to test your strength?" His hands unfolded and went to his belt, going for one of the first Pokeballs.

West's heart skipped a beat. Chris and Apple? Battle Norman?! No way, they weren't ready yet! She lifted her hands in a defensive pose and backed away a bit in a show of submission. "N-no, sir, I just wanted to-"

A loud hearty laugh erupted through the room, nearly vibrating West's head with its pulse. "Oh, relax. Johnny up front already wired me up on what was going on." His eyes met with hers, this time with quite a bit more light in them. "So what did you want to talk about, Westrose?"

West sighed in relief, her shoulders sinking from the tense position she hadn't realized she'd assumed. "Well, I'm travelling with your son, now, and I figured that...well, y'know, if I was going to be with East for a while, I oughta get to know his folks, right? So-"

"Hold on a minute, Westrose. What did you call him?" Norman asked, pointing idly at her.

West blinked. "Um...I...I go by West now, actually," she said. "East says it's shorter than Westrose."

Norman's eyebrow raised, and he opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, before shutting it. He drew his mouth into a hard line, obviously thinking about something.

This, understandably, made West incredibly nervous. What was so important about their names? Sure, east and west were opposing cardinal directions and saying them together in a sentence like that – East and West – kind of makes them sound like cute couple nicknames or whatever, but this was _West_ thinking! Surely Norman didn't think the same things an adolescent female mind did! Her eyebrows drew together and she bit her lip in apprehension, waiting for Norman to say something to either allay or confirm her fears that something was wrong.

"So how's the journey been so far?"

West blinked in surprise. Okay, not what she was expecting. He must have dropped the subject...unless he was probing her! _Oh my gosh that's totally what's happening,_ West said, gulping. _Okay, stay calm...stay calm..._

"Good."

Norman exhaled through his nose, bringing back his crossed-arms pose. "Come on, Westrose – West – you came here to talk with me right?" he said, a smile playing at his lips. "You've always been with Birch before, sure, but you're a big girl now. You can come up with something a little better than 'good', can't you?"

He was right, West decided. It'd be better if she just spoke her mind. Well, not _that_ much. But...maybe a little bit. Just recap.

"It's been good so far."

 _Seriously?! Come on, West!_

"We left Littleroot yesterday afternoon," West said. "We've had one or two battles, nothing too major. He and I both caught our second Pokémon. I caught a Wurmple, and he caught a Ralts. He's actually back on the route training his Pokemon up for the Rustboro Gym. We're meeting back at the Pokémon Center later today."

"Now why does he never tell his father these things?" Norman sighed. "Wish I could've been there when he was reaching those all-important milestones. And now I'm hearing that I'm not going to get to test him for his first Gym Badge?"

West shrugged. "He doesn't really want to face you yet. He's really _really_ set on Rustboro."

"Wonder why that would be," Norman murmured, tapping his chin with his pointer finger.

"How's he been behaving?" Norman asked, changing the subject. "Treating you well, I hope?"

"Yeah, for the most part," West said with a nod. "We talk and stuff. He's kind of antisocial, but I think I just need to break him out of his shell first."

Norman nodded in understanding. "From what I can tell he wasn't thrilled about the move to Hoenn. You know where he's from, right?"

"Johto, yeah."

"I'm sure you can tell how different Hoenn is from there. 'Specially considering he used to live in Olivine. Littleroot is a pretty big change."

"Mmhmm," West agreed. "How long d'you think it'll be until he gets used to Hoenn?"

Norman looked away from West for a moment to think. Then he turned back to her and smiled. "I'm sure that it'll happen any moment. Hoenn is a great region. It'll just take a bit of time for him to realize that."

West smiled a little at the words of encouragement. "Well...it was nice talking with you, Mr. Erdet," she said, bowing at the waist before she realized what she was doing. Must have been the Kanto-jin surroundings getting her into character!

Taking it in stride, Norman gave a chuckle and bowed right back. "It was nice talking with you, West. Now get to that Pokémon Center. Don't keep my son waiting."

West nodded. "Alright. See you, sir!"

* * *

East wasn't very happy. He was still pretty scraped up after that 'Treecko-is-going-to-kill-me' charade his mind had pulled on him earlier. Cheshire now had one up on him. His dignity as far as he was concerned was pretty much nonexistent. And somehow, in a cosmic sense, he _knew_ West was going to find out about this. So in short he was scraped, sunken, and screwed.

He and Cardinal weren't doing any battles anymore. He was utterly drained. _Funny,_ East thought. _I'm not the one doing the battling._ Cardinal and Cheshire were talking behind him. And of course, he couldn't understand what they were saying. It drove him mad. If he and they were supposed to be best friends forever or some crap like that, he should be able to understand them. But of course nobody else agreed with that notion and so understanding the creatures upon which the structure of the global society is based is obviously and rationally determined to be unnecessary in the public schooling system. Let's remove it and teach children how to diffrentiate _a_ to the _x_ and square root the vertex of a parabola instead. Because they're going to use _that_ in life.

He looked back at his Pokémon for a few seconds. Whatever they were talking about, they were really damn into it. Or, at least they were, until they noticed East was looking at them. That shut them up. East sighed and turned back to the path where he was walking. He hadn't meant to shut them up. But whatever. Wasn't his problem. Soon enough he reached the edge of the forest, checking his Pokégear for the time. He still had a bit before he had to meet West in the Center at 3:00. He could probably stop off at the Mart first and buy some stuff.

He'd battled a few Trainers on the route after training Cardinal enough – the wild Pokémon after a while didn't seem to cut it in giving Card the experience she needed. It didn't take long to catch Cheshire up either – so he'd used the Pokémon Trainers' trained Pokémon. Despite the redundancy, and the fact that Trainers were almost all scum of the earth that deserved to die in a fire, these Pokémon were quote unquote 'professionally trained', which meant that whether the trainers themselves are any good at all, the Pokémon would still be better at battling than wild ones.

And East was surprised – despite being a really dumb computer, he was using the Pokédex surprisingly often. It was most useful during battles, when it gave him the interface of how well his Pokémon was doing, and displayed their HP in a convenient bar format. Not only that, but it told him what moves his Pokémon were capable of, and tracked their experience progress.

But this was getting really dull. And it was becoming clear that neither Card or Chess were getting anything out of these guys anyways. And the trainers didn't really seem too happy that he wanted a rematch so soon. So after he'd beaten each trainer on the route, he'd had to go back to battling wild Pokémon. So after a while he just quit the whole business and began to make his way to Petalburg.

The cityscape slowly rose up in the horizon like an army of giant concrete gravestones. That analogy didn't really make much practical sense, especially since Petalburg City paled in comparison to Johto cities like Olivine or Goldenrod. But East definitely felt the fear and dread that came with the symbolism. Because not only was West waiting for him there – probably with a bunch of questions about how his training went – but his dad was there too. And no doubt he'd be trying to seek East out. He was pretty sure that Norman had promised to do that on that phone call back in the moving truck. _Way to use up my roaming data, by the way, Dad,_ he realized sourly.

Well, there wasn't much of a point prolonging this any longer. He took a deep breath and entered the city, hoping to Arceus that Norman wouldn't find him.

* * *

West hoped to Arceus that East wouldn't find her. Maybe he went on without her. Maybe he decided he didn't need or want her or vice versa and went on to Rustboro without her. Anything so that she wouldn't have to explain what she had been doing here since they'd parted ways. Because if he found out East was probably going to skin her alive.

Maybe. She wasn't even sure. Maybe he'd be totally fine with him talking to her dad behind his back. It was just a conversation with the gym leader of Petalburg, right? No problem there. Except the gym leader was also his dad and they'd definitely talked about him. So there was a problem there. A pretty big one. And it was really eating at her.

She stared at her feet in the Petalburg Pokémon Center, sitting uncomfortably on the bench. This felt so morally wrong. She had to tell East what she'd done. But she couldn't. But she had to!

West looked up at the door, trying to act casual as it opened up...even though it wasn't East that walked through. Just another random citizen. But every time she heard the _whiiirrrr_ of the automatic doors slide open she had a miniature heart attack. She was so nervous...what could she do?

Five seconds later she released Chris from his Pokéball, slumping back into the chair. "...Chris I need someone to talk to," she said with an air of exhaustion.

Chris chirruped and tilted his head, hopping up onto the chair beside West.

She turned to him almost immediately. "Okay, so you know how I went to the Petalburg Gym and talked with Norman about East? I don't know what to do. He's not going to be happy and he's my travel partner and possibly my potential friend so it wouldn't be good if he wasn't happy with me. But then again if I keep it from him he's probably going to find out at some point and then he'll be angry that I talked with his dad _and_ lied to him about it which would be twice as bad." She bit her lip, and shut her eyes tightly. "Also I'm really hungry but I don't want to eat anything from the Pokémon Center because the food is always gross but I don't want to not be at the Pokémon Center in case East gets here while I'm gone and I don't know what to do about that either! And on _top_ of that I still have to worry about how to help you guys beat Roxanne even though she's a Rock specialist and you guys are Fire and Bug types, neither of which are good against Rock types, so that's weighing on me too, and-"

West halted as she felt something on her leg. She'd stopped paying attention to Chris as she had begun rambling. But now Chris was resting his head on her, grounding West and bringing her back to reality. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Alright. Sorry, Chris, I...got a little out of hand."

He looked up at her with mild derision, an amused smirk on his face.

"Alright, alright, a _lot_ out of hand," West admitted. "But they're still all legitimate concerns! I'm just...I just got worked up about them." She leaned back in her seat. "But still. What do I do? What can I do? For at least one of them?"

Chris thought for a moment, then gave another chirp. West blinked. "Right. I can't understand you..."

The Torchic huffed in response and nudged her bag. She took it off and placed it between the two. Setting to work, he took the zipper into his beak and began to unzip the bag, before digging into it. He swept his head around, his legs sticking out of the gap in a rather comical fashion. He poked his head back out, looking at West pointedly. She giggled a little and unzipped the bag a little more, digging through it herself. Eventually she came up with something that Chris reacted to – the map.

It was a folding electronic map, sort of like the Gameboy Advance SP that they'd advertised on TV a while back. Or a fold-up phone, depending on whether you're twenty or forty years old. Even though it was mostly just called a 'Town Map', it contained data on the entire region of Hoenn. She started it up and navigated to Petalburg City. As it was a city, they didn't record wild Pokémon data for it, as the wild Pokémon in most cities varied wildly from day to day. She knew from experience that wild Pokémon were both rare, and extremely varied, so documenting their occurrences for future Pokémon Trainer reference would be useless. She zoomed out to the surrounding area, finding vague Pokémon Data for Routes 102 and 104.

 _There really should be more cooperation between the field researchers and the map manufacturers,_ West noted with a frown. _This data is all outdated._

The map only said that Zigzagoon and Wurmple were encountered on Route 104, but West knew for a fact that Taillow, Wingull, and Marill all had habitats there! She'd been there on the route nearly every time she came to Petalburg City with her dad...but that was probably the furthest she'd ever travelled from Littleroot. She'd never been allowed to go into the Petalburg Woods. She let her mind wander about what Pokémon could be there...and then it clicked. It was the woods. There'd be Grass types there, which are good against Rock! That could be great against Roxanne!

Chris beamed a little as he saw that she'd realized his point. She could tell he was pretty proud of himself for figuring that out from the way he puffed up his chest and closed his eyes as if he expected to be awarded some sort of medal. It was honestly pretty cute.

"Thanks, Chris," she said with a small smile, extending a hand and ruffling his head affectionately. She looked back at the door, and took another deep breath. She could do this. She could do this.

Abruptly, she got up from the chair. "Hey, Chris. I'm going to go look for a café to get something to eat. You want to come with?"

In response Chris hopped down from the chair and looked up at her with pride.

"Okay. Stick close to me. City streets can be scary when you're on your own," she warned her Torchic, who strode up right next to her. She walked to the doors, and heard the _whiiirrrr_ of them open as she approached. She stepped outside into the street, smelling the salty seaside air. Just a quick bite to eat. They wouldn't be long, and East wouldn't mind.

"West. Thank Arceus," a familiar voice said from behind her.

 _Frick._

* * *

Paranoia comes from the greek word of the same pronunciation, which means 'madness'. This term was used to describe any sort of mental affliction that had to do with beliefs of the brain. So while it would be used to describe someone who is afraid that everyone and everything is out to get him, it would also describe someone who believes that they are a deity, or something similar.

Now you, as an informed and intelligent reader, may infer that I'm telling you this because East – who we are now switching to because of the line break – has been afflicted with some form of paranoia. And you would be right, at least partially. He wasn't entirely terrified of everyone around him being in league with Norman, but he was plagued with the thought that his father could pop out from any corner to initiate a conversation with him. And his conversations with Norman were not enjoyable in the slightest. And so though his mind revolted in him using the words 'West' and 'thank' in the same sentence, he was at the very least happy that he'd encountered her before he'd encountered Norman. Because here, West was the better option.

"...Um...hey, East!" West turned to face him with a strained grin. "It's...um...you're here early!"

"Were you planning on going somewhere?" East asked coolly, careful to keep his tone level.

West looked back over her shoulder. "Ah yeah, my Pokémon and I were just about to get to a café to nom on something."

East was silent for a moment. "...nom?"

"You've never heard that word?"

"Not off of the internet. Not out of someone's mouth."

"Nom is from the internet?" West blinked. "It's the sound you make when you bite into something! Nom!"

East brought a hand to his forehead. "Okay, no. Nobody makes that sound."

"Well...I guess that means you don't wanna come," West said, quickly turning around and making for the café. "That's a shame. Well, why don't we meet in an hour or so and keep going to Rustboro?"

Immediately East became suspicious. Why wasn't she inviting him along? It wasn't a secret to either of them that West wanted to get all buddy buddy with him. That was made pretty obvious day one. But the fact that she was in such a hurry to get to that café without him raised some red flags.

"Hey, I'm pretty hungry too," East said casually, bringing his hands up behind his head in a relaxed position. "Maybe I'll come with you to that café. Arceus knows I haven't been to enough of _those_ lately."

Again West forced a strained smile to split her face. "Okay, great! You want to let your Pokémon out?"

East shook his head. "No, they've been fighting all day. They're probably dead tired. I...don't really know how the whole Pokéball system works with that sort of thing, but I'm going to play it safe and keep 'em in there until I've healed them up."

West took a breath as if she were going to say something, but she shut her mouth and turned around. "Well, let's get going then."

 _What did you do?_ East thought suspiciously. Instantly his mind gravitated to Norman, but he ushered the thought out of his head almost immediately. Some strange part of his mind felt that if East thought about him it'd make it more probable that he'd appear. And he didn't want that to happen. So what could West have done that would make her not want him with her? Was it some weird girl thing? Was she embarrassed of her appearance or some crap like that? Or...

...oh. _That's_ why. Frick. Well, he accepted, so there was no backing out. He'd just have to tread _really_ carefully and hope that he didn't do anything that she thought was stupid. Did girls even get like that this early? How old was she, anyways? They were the same age. He shook his head a little, attempting to derail this train of thought before it got out of hand.

"...What about Apple? Why haven't you let her out?" East asked carefully.

West didn't look back. "...Apple doesn't like Chris, I think. It's a little early to tell, I know, but I'm trying to ease them into this."

"And by 'this' you mean..."

"The relationship. I mean, they're on a team now, so whether they're friends or not they're going to be working together at some point. So I'm trying to ease them into the possible future relationship without making them tread on each others' toes."

 _Oh, okay, so forcing relationships is a thing you do with_ everyone, _not just me,_ East noted sourly. Of course, he didn't say this. Because that'd hurt her preciously fragile feelings and good Arceus did it feel weird to even think like that.

"So...have you been here before?" West asked. "To Petalburg, I mean."

"Only once. And I don't remember it that well."

"Why, you were young?"

"No, I thought it was dumb that I was in Hoenn in the first place." FRICK what the heck did he just say!?

"Hey, Hoenn isn't _that_ bad, is it?" West turned to face him and crossed her arms. That look on her face was definitely annoyance. He'd pissed her off. Frick. Frick. What was he supposed to say?! "I mean, it's no _Johto_ -" she continued.

 _Thick thick sarcasm,_ East noted grimly.

"-but I like to think that Hoenn has _some_ perks?"

East was put on the spot. Should he lie? That was his first instinct, but if she found out he'd be crucified. But if he told the truth he'd be crucified right now. It was better to take the chance that he wouldn't. But his panicked mind couldn't work out exactly how to lie best to someone who was this incredibly sensitive, and he could tell that she was getting more impatient the longer she had to wait for an answer so he eventually just blurted one out.

"The starter Pokémon are okay."

Ha ha, _what?!_ Did he just _compliment starter Pokémon?!_ At least the lie seemed to soar over West's head. She beamed proudly. "Aww, thanks! That means a lot coming from someone like you."

Okay. Hold the phone. What did that mean? Women always laced their sentences with hidden meanings, didn't they? That was like one of the requirements of being a woman. So what on earth did _that_ mess of cryptograms mean? It meant a lot coming from someone like him? What did she mean, someone like him? Who was like him? What kind of archetype of human being did he fit into? What stereotypes did they have? Was she trying to tell him that he was a biker punk or something? And that 'means a lot'. Why would complimenting the starter Pokémon mean a-

 _She's the professor's daughter._

 _What in Arceus's name did I just do?_

* * *

Okay, so the subject of Norman hasn't come up yet. Well, it did, but she was able to use one of East's complaints to successfully derail the conversation. Not only that but she actually got a compliment out of the kid. It was...weird, but cool! Maybe they were actually getting somewhere in their relationship. Of course, that way of thinking quickly looped back to the lie that she was keeping behind East's back. He was going to find out sooner or later, and if she wanted their relationship to improve, she was going to have to be a lot more forward with him than she currently was. Either she was going to tell him or he was going to find out himself, and it didn't take a lot of thinking to figure out which one was more favourable. But she would still have to work up the courage to actually tell him first, and that in and of itself was going to be tough. After all, she was spending pretty much eighty percent of her efforts right now just to keep the topic _off_ of Norman.

" _Your command, Sergeant?"_ _Private West stood at the ready._

 _The sergeant stared at the video feed, her hands folded in her lap, her brow furrowed in an expression of deep thought. "We're at an impasse, girls. The right path is clear. But I'm not sure if we have enough Bravado to pull off the journey the entire way."_

" _So in other words you're afraid we're going to bail mid-mission," Corporal West mumbled._

" _There's a chance that if we go for it we'll build up enough steam to keep running on fumes until we're finished the conversation," Private West provided._

" _Nonetheless, the consequences either way would be dire," the sergeant reminded them gravely. "Remember, East is our one and only candidate for lifelong friend that we have at our disposal."_

" _Your command, Sergeant?" Private West repeated. "Should we go for it?"_

" _We're stalling!" Lance Corporal West shouted. "Target's suspicion level estimated at twenty percent!"_

 _Sergeant West swore under her breath. "Do you have a growth rate?"_

" _Five percent per second," Lance Corporal West said gravely._

" _What?" Private West exclaimed incredulously. "But he isn't waiting on an answer of any kind!"_

" _Doesn't matter," Corporal West growled. "This is a situation we vets call the 'awkward silence'. It's a dreaded thing...and about time a newbie like you finally encountered one."_

" _...Lance Corporal," Sergeant West barked. "Check our stores for conversation starters!"_

 _She nodded and left the social readings station for Procedual Memory. "I'll radio you as soon as I find one."_

" _Corporal, I want you to focus on appropriate body language and small vocal sounds to fill the void. Understood?"_

" _Yessir," she said, taking controls alongside the private._

" _And me, Sergeant?" Private West asked._

" _Stand at the ready."_

" _Understood."_

West scuffed her feet a bit on the sidewalk, blowing her bangs away from her face. Chris looked up at her quizzically, and she gave him a half-hearted smile. Goodness, East _must_ know that something was definitely off by now. She'd been silent for a good five seconds. Both of them have. And things weren't getting any better as time went by. She began praying that the café would just show up so that they'd have something to distract themselves from the growing gap between words. She desperately scanned both sides of the street for anything resembling a restaurant.

"What about you?" East finally asked. "Have you been here before?"

"With my dad," West affirmed. "Not too often, though. We mostly stick to Oldale since it's closer. But here's nice too." She frowned a bit. "...A lot bigger, though."

"Probably wouldn't like Johto then," East remarked. "I think even Cherrygrove is bigger than this place."

"I didn't say I didn't _like_ it," West huffed. "Only that it was bigger."

That shut East up. Why? She looked back at him trying to conceal a look of surprise. Why did he suddenly go quiet?

"That looks like a café," East said suddenly, nodding his head.

Maybe that was why. In that case she was safe. Thank Arceus. She directed her gaze to where East had indicated, spying something called The Riviera.

"Looks more like a sit-down restaurant to me," West said. "How much money do you have?"

"Oh, tons," East said passively. "I did most of my training against other trainers. The system's pretty easy to abuse."

West gave him a small look. "There is no system."

"Try telling that to the hive mind back on one-oh-three."

That earned a little chuckle out of West. "I have no clue what you're talking about. So...you in the mood for sitting down?"

"I'm pretty hungry, yeah," East said. "Though look at that."

West looked at where he was pointing. There was a sign on the outside of the door, in gold plating. She rolled her eyes a bit. This was Petalburg, there was no need to be so darn ritzy! But as she moved closer, she began to realize why East had pointed it out.

"...In the interest of equality for our patrons and guests, no Pokémon are allowed outside of their Pokéballs on the premises." West frowned a bit. "Equality, huh? Guess that means someone complained about Mr. Castform being let outside while their precious little Hariyama wasn't."

"Still up for it?" East asked. "I mean, they used the word 'patrons'. If they aren't a five star restaurant, they're definitely trying to be. I bet they use the word 'purchase' at least three times on their menu."

"I think you've had enough café visits to last a lifetime," West joked. "Let's go inside. Maybe their food'll be really good."

Chris chirped indignantly up at West from her feet.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll save you something," West said, returning him to his Pokéball.

West looked at her Pokéball after Chris had finished retreating into it. It felt wrong somehow to be eating without him. This could have been good bonding time with her lifelong partner, something besides battling. But rules were rules, and...well, East had spotted The Riviera anyways, so that settled that. "Shall we?" she asked, gesturing to the door.

East said nothing in response, instead walking into the restaurant before her, sparing her a glance before making his way through the glass doorway. Realizing that he was gone, West scrambled to catch up with him at the host stand. After answering the pleasantries, they were seated at a table for two, getting a few suggestive looks from some of the more peering adults in the restaurant. It was past lunch, but wasn't quite dinner yet, so the restaurant was pretty empty.

West took her glass cup from the table, noting the water ring it'd left behind. She swirled the liquid around inside the cup, listening to the clink of the ice cubes against the edge.

"What are you doing?" East asked. "It's not wine."

"You do the stirring thing with brandy, actually," West said, looking back up at him. "But nice try."

East frowned a bit, but said nothing in response. Weird. She thought for sure that he'd have a comeback to that. She was almost disappointed.

"So what's the plan?" West asked, putting the water down on the ring and folding her arms on the table.

East leaned back on his seat and gazed up at the ceiling. "We go to Rustboro. Simple as that."

"Why Rustboro though?"

"That's usually where first trainers start off, right?" East asked, bringing his head down to look back at them. "If I'm going to be doing what literally every kid does, I'd ought to do it in the way literally every kid does."

"Well, no," West said, looking off to the side. "I mean, new trainers get their Pokémon from my dad in Littleroot. From there the closest gyms are either in Mauville or Petalburg. Though usually people don't go for Mauville because you need to either be a really strong swimmer, or have a good Water type Pokémon to get there. And the gym's Electric, so Water types don't do well anyhow. So most people start off with their first badge here."

East's eyes had a faraway look for a moment. "...Well, why do we need to do what everyone else is doing, huh? Why don't we break the mold and go do something different for a change?"

"Do you have someone in Rustboro?" West asked. "I mean, don't worry, I won't judge. I'm just wondering."

"What makes you think I want to go to Rustboro specifically?" East asked, crossing his arms. "I just don't want to be waist-deep in toddlers who think they're big shots for taking down the worst Pokémon type."

"Normal isn't the worst Pokémon type!" West huffed. "I personally don't think there _is_ a worst Pokémon type."

East gave a laugh. "Oh, that's rich. Look, Normal type moves aren't strong against any other type, and they're weak against three, and can't even affect one. Normal type Pokémon aren't resistant to any types, and are weak against one. I don't think those are very good odds."

"Ah, but they have great move pools, usually," West said. "They're also usually better equipped than other Pokémon, stat-wise."

"In any case, I think we should hold off on Petalburg. When I plough my dad into the ground I want it to be so overwhelmingly easy that he'll regret-"

West leaned back in her chair, taken off guard by the sudden outburst. What was his beef with his dad? "...regret what?"

"...Where's our waitress?" he mumbled, resting his head on his arms, which were rested on the table. "...They're taking forever."

* * *

 _Did I just change the subject?_ East thought with a mental grimace. _Yes. Yes, I did. And I also just answered my own question. Dammit._

He was a mess. How the heck was he supposed to socialize while dancing around her toes like this? He'd just narrowly avoided a scene right there, and it'd taken a laughably terrible lie to get out of it. He brought up his menu and tried to distract himself from the conversation by trying to make up his mind on what to eat.

"So we're going to Rustboro, then," West said, nodding to herself. "Guess that means I'm going to have to get something good against Rock types. Both Chris and Apple would have a hard time fighting Roxanne."

"...Roxanne being the gym leader?" East asked. If he knew Gym Leaders, this Roxanne chick was going to be a freak. All of the gym leaders in Johto were. Especially Morty...him and Whitney."

"Hum?" West looked up from the menu. "What were they like?"

"Morty was like your classic goth. Fixated on death and ghosts and more death. He was the Ghost type gym leader. And then there's..." he sighed. "...Whitney."

"...Who's Whitney?" West asked.

East rested his hands on his forehead. "We knew each other in school. She was...not pleasant to be around." He withheld a shudder. "She was a few grades over me...and never let anyone forget it. It was...damn near insufferable. She was, I mean."

"She was a diva?" West asked.

He shook his head. "Not the right word. I...probably shouldn't say the right word, though."

West gave him a sideways grin. "Gotcha. But I'm sure Roxanne is fine. She's a student, still, actually."

Really? Roxanne? A student _and_ a Gym Leader? "Interesting combination," East said. "Does it work?"

"She puts a lot of her booksmarts into her battling," West affirmed. "Though sometimes she lets some of the dumb rock stuff in."

"Dumb rock stuff," he said, crossing his arms. "Like what? Metamorphic slash sedimentary slash igneous?"

"Oh, no, that stuff's the cool stuff," West said. "Her stadium's all modelled after the different types, see? At least I think that's how it is. And she knows how to use it. Like, igneous is volcanic, sedimentary splits easy and is soft, and metamorphic is all hard and smooth, like glass. At least, I think that's how it is? And you're supposed to use all of that to your advantage. I've heard it's a pretty cool opportunity to fight her."

"How do you know about this?"

West blinked. "W-well, I...may or may not read Hoenn League Weekly...and Gym Leaders may or may not give them exclusive interviews every so often...and I may or may not have saved them in a drawer in my room and pored over them in preparation for this journey."

At that moment, the waiter came and took their orders, destroying the way the conversation was going. If East was careful he might be able to salvage the subject and milk it, but things weren't looking good. This magazine thing seemed like something he could use as leverage against her in the future. All he had to do was ask about the magazines. All he had to do was ask about Roxanne in the magazines.

"So about Roxanne," East said, silently cursing himself for not being specific enough. He could see the segway coming a mile away.

"Yeah, she's pretty cool," West said. "Her gym's probably one of the more plain ones out there, though."

Dammit. "Yeah?" Sip. Casual.

"Uh huh," West affirmed. "They used to have their gyms all built so that they'd have a home advantage. F'rinstance, Watson in Mauville? He had his entire stadium built of conductive steel so that his Pokémon's Electric attacks would carry through it so he didn't have to be accurate about it. The Fed put a stop to that pretty quick though."

"So what's it like now?" It was an empty question. He was barely even listening to her. He didn't care about this! He wanted that weird PokéNav, he wanted his data, he wanted his internet, he wanted his radio. That was it. Four simple things. He had a much longer list of 'don't wants', but he wasn't focusing on those right now. They tended to put him in a sour mood. He sensed a pause in the conversation and gave an absent 'uh huh' to make her think that he was paying attention. It seemed to work – she kept blathering on.

The rest of the visit to the Riviera passed by quickly. As the conversation about gyms came to a close, the thought of Norman began to once again permeate East's mind. He couldn't stop thinking about Norman. How his dad could pop out of any corner at any moment and ambush him. He had to get out of Petalburg, and fast. He'd have to get West out too, in case she tried anything behind his back. She'd probably already reported to Norman her findings already. She was still, after all, his chaperone. But with any luck she was too naive to actually realize what East was doing, and her 'reviews' of him would be at least somewhat positive. But this settled things: he had to get out of Petalburg before Norman had a say in things. And he had a pretty good idea on how to do it.


	10. Chapter 10

**FON FAKT DID U NO: To say someone is 'nauseous' means that they are causing nausea in someone. If you want to say that someone's feeling sick, you say they're feeling nauseated.**

* * *

 **POKÉRUS**  
by Multikirby

 _Chapter 10_

The phrase 'broke' is a somewhat strange one. Of course, 'broke' is also a word that can be used to define the action of breaking something in the past tense, or informally describing something that is broken. When used as a phrase, however, 'broke' most commonly means that someone has run out of money, which is a curious application if one is to think about it. If one takes the literal meaning of the word broke and applies it to the phrase 'broke', one can deduce that someone is considered broken if they have run out of funds. Someone in a more revolutionary state of mind may say that this is because money is an undeserving backbone of society and should be abolished or some such. But obviously, a world without money has been tried in the past and has failed catastrophically, so a world without money would not be recommended.

Another phrase that can be derived from the word 'broke' is the phrase 'go for broke'. This means that the person 'going for broke' is giving every bit of effort they are able to muster to achieve some sort of goal. This can be dissected a few ways. If you are to 'go for broke' and give every bit of effort, it is quite possible that you may end up broke – that is, out of money – should your efforts prove fruitless. It is also possible you may be broke in the literal sense, depending on the rigorousness of the task you are 'going for broke' for.

So using these principles, it is quite realistically possible to have ended up – after going for broke – broke and broke.

Fortunately West was only broke.

"You look like you're ready to die." East walked through the glass doors of the Riviera, leaning against the outside of the building. He swept his gaze up and down the street casually.

"...I still have a lemony taste in my mouth," West groaned, stumbling through the same glass doors in a much less graceful manner. "...Didn't even have lemons in any of my meals."

"Might be stomach acids," East said, bringing his hands behind his head. "...You wanna vomit? Go ahead, right in the street. They won't mind."

"Not...urp...the time..." West shot him a look and slammed her back against the wall of the restaurant, sliding down until she was in a hunched position.

East gave her a glance and inched away. "...Just don't throw up here. They'll make me pay even more to clean up your mess."

West looked up at him with an unimpressed expression. "It wouldn't kill you to be a little more sympathetic, would it, East?"

He gave a small grin in return. "Might kill you, though."

She leaned her head back against the wall, eyes squinted shut. "...Could you just...shut up for a few minutes? I need to get my head back."

West didn't hear a reply. She let out a sigh of relief, and began to slow her breathing, taking deep inhalations of cool crisp air into her-

 _urp._

Too crisp. She swallowed, and burst into a fit of coughing. Fighting reflexive tears from her eyes, she opened them and slipped off her backpack, digging through it until she found her water bottle. She fumbled with the lid and pressed the cold metal tip to her lips. Cool water flowed into her mouth, and she gulped it down hungrily, praying to Arceus it'd calm her system down. And to an extent, it did. Her breathing was still hitched, but she didn't feel in danger of retching anymore.

"I..." she panted, planting her hand onto the concrete. "I thought that bill was suspiciously low..." she murmured.

East gave a small nod and looked back at the restaurant. "Yeah. For something so high-class looking, you'd think they'd actually be high class. Guess that's Hoenn for you."

West jabbed a finger at him indignantly. "N-no, that's...not true! Just...this one restaurant! I-I'm sure that Johto has some weird places too!"

East was silent for a moment. "...Fair enough. How long do you think it's going to take for your digestive tract to reset itself?"

"Please, East, don't put it so graphically..." she groaned, holding her stomach. "I don't want to picture it."

"...'Digestive tract' is a pretty impersonal way of putting 'stomach, pancreas, and intestines'."

" _East!_ " West yelled.

He let out a small laugh, then fell silent again. West could hear the repetitive sound of fingers hitting fabric as East drummed his hand against his leg. "...Y'know, hot water bottles work pretty well."

"...I have a cold water bottle."

"And a Fire-Type."

 _Oh. Right._

Laboriously, West reached to her belt and detached Chris's Pokéball from its slot. She tossed it towards the ground and placed her water bottle beside her. She heard a concerned chirp and felt his head press against her knees. She was still curled up against the Riviera wall, and she felt as if moving would cause her insides to be her outsides. So she only mumbled a tentative command.

"...Chris...could you help me out and heat up that water bottle, please?"

There was another chirp.

"Oh, trust me, bird, you don't want what she had," East said passively.

After that, she felt the soft heat of nearby flames as Chris obediently warmed up the bottle. A nudge told her that he'd finished the job, and she extended an arm, feeling about for the metal bottle. Her hand grasped it, and she quickly pressed the surface to her stomach, letting out a sigh of contentment. The gentle warmth slowly crept through her body like cream in coffee, starting in the center and slowly reaching out, creeping towards each distant corner of her being. It was a slow process, yes, but it was doing wonders to calm herself down.

"...Thanks, Chris," she murmured. "You're a lifesaver."

"Does this mean you're ready to go, drama queen?"

She braced herself against the wall and pushed to get herself to a standing position on shaky legs. "...I'll give it a try." She opened her eyes and looked towards East, who was already making for the streets. Frowning, she returned Chris to his Pokéball and stumbled after him, still clutching the precious heat to her

* * *

West was in a pretty bad way. But then again, she had ordered seafood. Sure, they were right on the coast, and the menu made it sound pretty tempting. But ordering seafood is pretty much asking for death to cram itself down your throat. You never hear about anyone dying from eating ill-prepared salads. It's always seafood and raw meat. East felt a little nervous when he'd ordered his fettuccine, as he wondered whether the wheat could go awry in the weird Hoenn kitchens, what with their weird, not up to standard cooking practices. And he'd felt a strange sensation near the back of his throat as he'd eaten. Under normal circumstances, he would've dismissed it as an itch. But there was no denying the possibility that these primitive people might have poisoned him, and he was not going to take any chances.

As West was curled up against the wall, he'd fetched an Antidote from his bag. He knew these things were for Pokémon, but the same principle should apply, right? Maybe it wasn't the same kind of poison, yeah, but he didn't see any warning labels about humans having one spritz of the stuff. So while she was getting up after the water bottle fiasco, he'd opened his mouth and given the nozzle a squeeze. It had tasted like graphite, grapes, and Hell on Earth mixed into a blender, but at least his mind was put at ease about being food poisoned. Now he could focus on more important things.

Like making sure that West and Norman never meet.

It sucked that West was feeling so ill because it was going to impede their route out of the town. And he couldn't just leave her here either. So he'd have to babysit her. East actually briefly considered renting a stroller or wheelchair, but he figured that'd send some pretty specific messages West's way that he really didn't want to get across. It was in pretty much every romance movie ever. The girl gets injured or sick or something, and the dude pushes her around in a wheelchair or supports her on his shoulder. And chaperone or not, West was a hormone-driven girl, and he was not about to take any chances of starring in any sort of romcom.

The shipping names would be ridiculous anyways. Ewst? Weast?

Suddenly he stopped. Why the frick was he even thinking about this? Shipping names? Seriously, East?!

He shook his head to clear it and kept making his way to the edge of the city. He swore, this stupid place was making him go crazy or something.

"So. Where are we going?" he asked, looking back at West. "You said something about the woods."

"Y-yeah," West wheezed, hobbling after him. "...Could you slow down a bit? I feel like going faster than a shamble is going result in bad things."

Groaning inwardly, East stopped. He wanted to get out of Petalburg, and he wanted to get out as soon as humanly possible. That's why it was so frustrating West wasn't exactly passing as a 'human' right now. "Why do you want to go to the woods?" he asked, balancing from foot to foot antsily as he waited for West to catch up. "This some sort of field research jumbo you're getting up to?"

"N-no, no, not that..." West said, shuffling her feet as she came up next to East. "Rox...Roxanne is a Rock-type gym leader, and...I don't have anything good on that...so...I was thinking of getting something in the forest that could help."

"...Because the forest is a forest."

"Yeah, that was my train o-" West winced again. "Okay, talking's a bad idea..."

My prayers have been answered, East thought. "Alright, just keep quiet, then. Let's go to those woods or whatever. Do you know what's there?"

West shook her head. "Not exactly, no, but..I've got logic on my side, right? If...if it's a fore-" She stopped again, her expression morphing into one of discomfort.

"Five words or less," East said, walking towards the route house that led to Route 104. "Try that."

"...Grass-types in the forest..." West stuttered after a bit of deliberation. Then she half-glared at East. "You enjoy this, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, very much so," East grinned. "Silence is golden, you know."

West sniffed and shook her head a little when East spared her a look. She did seem to be recovering bit by bit, though. So that was good. They'd be able to get to Rustboro, he'd be able to get the Pokewave or whatever that stupid thing was, get radio, get data, get internet, get back to Littleroot, and never leave his room again.

Wonderful.

"Can...we rest a little...?" West mumbled, slowing down again.

"Once we're at the route house," East replied. He wasn't exactly out of this place yet, and that meant that he could still be ambushed by unsavory types.

"You cheated," West retorted as she crossed her arms.

East turned around to look at her, still walking backward. "Perhaps, but I'm not the one that's about to evict their intestines."

West contorted her face into a look of disgust. "Ew."

* * *

There are some experiences from being sick that, the sick may argue, are pleasant feelings that healthy people can't experience. Like simply lying down on a hard floor when you have an intense flu.

West was doing this right now, on the floor of the route house. She was trembling quietly, curled up in the fetal position. She'd never felt so good before in her life. Cold shivers coursed up and down her spine, tickling her back with a pleasant tingling sensation. She heaved a sigh severed by the shuddering coming and going through her body. She was still holding the water bottle to her belly, but it was more lukewarm than anything now. But that was sort of okay in her books. At least it wasn't cold. And she felt it was helping her, even if only a little bit. Her body had already begun its decline to normality back in Petalburg, but now she felt particularly close to being a functioning human being again. Crawling over to one of the chairs on the side of the house, she began to methodically drag herself up onto the chair, continuing the process by bringing herself to a sitting position, even if she were still slouched over with her facial expression resembling that of the undead.

"Better?" East asked, giving her a little glance from his PokéGear on the other side of the route house.

"Marginally," she said quietly. Her eyes went to his phone thing. The PokéGear. He used it whenever they weren't doing anything. He'd pulled it out quite a bit when they were in the Riviera, and he'd been listening to music back in the Oldale Pokémon Center. He still had an earbud in one of his ears now, actually. "What are you listening to?"

East jolted a bit as if he'd been shocked by a joy buzzer. He looked at her with mild shock, before the expression disappeared. "Just music," he said.

"What kind?"

"Rap."

"You like rap?"

"No."

"Then why...?"

"It's what's on the radio."

"Ah."

They were silent for a moment. Then West frowned a bit. "If you don't like rap, why don't you listen to your own music? My phone lets me put music on mine."

He shrugged. "I guess I could," he mumbled. "But why do you care?"

"I dunno, it just doesn't make sense to me why you would force yourself to do something you don't like."

East held her gaze for a few moments – just enough to make it feel slightly unnerving – before his eyes went back to his PokéGear.

She slowly stood up and made her way to the other side of the room, sitting beside East with a one-seat buffer between them. East had given her a glance from the side but didn't give any sort of reaction, so West figured that was sort of a grant of permission to sit there with him. She stole a look at his screen, but he moved it away at the last moment.

"...Sorry," she murmured, looking away.

"Mmm," East said, taking out his one earbud and leaning against the chair.

"...What kind of music do you like listening to?" West asked, not wanting there to be an awkward silence. She messed up by screen peeking on his PokéGear, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

"...Bits of everything," he mumbled after a bit of thought. "There isn't any one thing that I prefer over the other."

"Can I listen to something?"

"No, there's nothing worth listening to."

"Come on, please?" West asked. "I won't judge, promise!"

"You wouldn't get it," he mumbled, putting his PokéGear away. "It's weird stuff."

West was tempted to press further. This was just piquing her curiosity even more. But something in her mind told her that pushing much further would be bad. So she dropped it.

"...What do you listen to?" he asked after a bit of silence.

She was a little startled by the question. West had expected him to just let the silence hang for a while. But whatever, anything to fill the silence. "Sort of like you, a bit of everything. But I mostly listen to pop, electronic, and classic rock."

"Grab bag," East said quietly.

"Yeah, I guess!" West said with a small laugh. "A lot of people give me looks for the classic rock one, though I don't really know why."

"Imagine that," East said, letting out a breath of air. "You ready yet?"

West nodded. "Yeah. I'm good enough to walk at the very least."

"Okay, good." He stood up. "Let's not waste any more time."

* * *

A shifting breeze sounded a hollow whistle through the arborous roof, the woodwind creating a low foreboding note and displacing the heavy, still atmosphere. Specks of dust floated gently in the air, disturbed only by the odd movement of wildlife or a strong gust every now and then. There was a percussive rustle running among the leaves and branches of each bush and tree, every plant whispering some secret to each other in hushed voices, so that only those listening carefully could hear. In contrast, the sounds of distant animals seemed like a brassy shout, distant and desperate to convey some unknown message to anyone caring to understand them. The woods were dark, despite it only being the late afternoon, and the air felt heavy as if bearing secrets of its own. The sun's rays were made to break streaming through the leafy canopy, casting down to the ground in visible beams.

East was tempted to suggest that they go their separate ways for a while so that West could concentrate on getting a Grass-Type or whatever. But really he just needed some time alone. Maybe with his Pokémon, maybe not. They were probably getting pretty peeved at him for his keeping them in those tiny balls all this time. But no, it probably wouldn't be smart to leave West just yet. He'd do it at some point in here, but it'd probably be wise to make sure that they both know how to get to the other side with their lives still attached to the mortal coil. So at least for the time being, they'd have to stick together. He didn't want to feel any pangs of guilt if he saw West's face on a milk carton.

...That was a dark train of thought.

"So, Ms. Biologist, you got any kind of idea what Pokémon are in here?" East asked, taking the forest in around him at a glance.

"Like I said, probably Grass-Types," she said. "But this place is pretty moist, too. Dark in midday, wet...it's like a perfect breeding ground for fungus."

East gave her a look. "...Fungus?"

West nodded. "Y'know, mushrooms and the like. A lot of types are really keen on damp, dark environments. Course, a lot of fungi can grow _anywhere_ because they're resilient, superpower beasts, but this is the sort of place where they can thrive."

"...Aren't funguses, I dunno, poisonous?" East asked, sparing a glance to the trees. It was only now that he was noticing the strange growths that were attached to some of them. He coughed nervously.

"Oh, some of them, yeah," West said, completely missing East's unease – thank Arceus. "Some have projectile spores that can attach to the walls of your throat, reproduce, and choke you to death."

East shivered. "I read about that in a book once. They had to use wasabi to save them."

West looked back at him with a confused expression. "Why wasabi?"

"I can't remember," he said with a shrug.

"Anyways, I'm thinking that there's probably going to be Pokémon like Paras and Shroomish here, because of the fungi-rich environment. Actually..." she thought for a moment. "I kind of want to come back here at night."

"Well, if you're going to do that you can do it yourself," he mumbled. "I'm not staying up until two o' clock in the morning so you can see sleeping funguses."

West only smiled a bit. "You never know, you might like it. I mean, I love to sleep. But..." she turned back and kept walking, looking around at the woods with the eyes of a six-year-old in an aquarium. "I don't know."

The two of them kept walking in relative silence. East wasn't nearly as fascinated with this forest as West was. It wasn't anything like Ilex Forest. At least that forest had a rich history with Celebi and all that. This was just...tiny woods. Yay.

"So how are we going to get out of here?" East asked finally. "Is there some map we should have?"

"Oh." West looked over at him. "I have a map already, but it's not of the forest. All we have to do is follow this trail. If we keep from straying off the trail, we'll reach the other side no problem."

"Which means that one of us is inevitably going to lose sight of the trail," East muttered pessimistically.

"What?"

"Don't worry about it."

He saw West give him a bit of a look out of the corner of her eye, but she didn't pursue it. She was doing that more often, he noted. Leaving things alone.

So the chaperone _could_ be trained. Not that it mattered much. Come Rustboro, he was out of here.

"Hey," East said. "You think there are any trainers here?"

West shot a surprised glance at him. "You're looking for them now? I thought you believed them to be the scum of the earth or whatever you said."

"Well, first off, considering I'm actually one of them now..." East paused to spit on the ground, earning a small huff through the nose from West – a pseudo-laugh. "I might as well start acting the part."

"So you're going to just stand in one spot, staring straight ahead until someone-"

"Oh, Arceus no," East scoffed. "I'm never going to stoop that low. But I just figure that if I'm going to be forced to do this, I might as well do it right. Just so I can show everyone that I could."

"I don't really get why you wouldn't want to do this, East. It's the adventure of a lifetime!"

"Yeah. One that literally every person ever has taken, or is taking," East said dully.

West made a face. "So you don't want to do this because everyone else is doing it?"

"It's a little more complex than that," East said. "But for the sake of avoiding an argument, let's leave it at that."

West fell silent.

They walked without words for a while, the woods whispering their conversations around them every so often. The trail, to its credit, was rather easy to follow, and comfortably wide. It was obvious to East that this was a trail often taken. He looked up at the path and imagined the ghosts of everyone who had ever passed through here. Everyone who had taken this journey before him.

It reminded him of Olivine City.

* * *

West was on _high alert_ mode. She had a pretty good idea of the kind of Pokémon she wanted from this forest, and in Arceus's name she was going to get it. The problem was she wasn't entirely sure what the Pokémon she wanted sounded like. At least, when it wasn't giving out its cry. So she had to keep an eye out. But it was becoming clear that she was going to have to go off the path to find it. The trail was too run down and dry for what she wanted. She'd have to go where there was more plant life. But even as she was thinking this, East's words haunted her.

 _...One of us is inevitably going to lose sight of the trail._

He probably meant it as a joke, but the meaning wasn't lost on her. It was entirely possible that she could lose the trail, and then where would she be?

...Well, she'd be in the Petalburg Woods, but she'd be _lost_ in the Petalburg Woods, and that was substantially worse than just plain _being_ in them.

But it was becoming clear that if she was going to get the Pokémon she was after, she was going to have to go off the beaten path and traipse through the darker parts of the woods. And while this terrified her, it was also incredibly exciting. This was going to be the first real risk that she'd ever taken in her journey thus far! She was putting her life on the line for the first time to further her skills as a trainer! And this was what being a trainer was all about, right?

Once they had reached the exit of Petalburg Woods, West told East of her plans to find a new Pokémon to add to her team. East was mildly supportive, saying that he was going to train up his own in the woods for a while anyways. As East didn't need to move far from the exit to accomplish what he was planning to do, they agreed to meet up there once West had finished. With that, West ventured back down the path, and veered left into the bush.

She'd let out both Apple and Chris at the same time. It was a risky move, doing this, but she felt that they deserved another chance to make friends with each other. That, and if she didn't do this now, the problem would probably surface someplace much worse, like in the middle of a battle or something. For the most part, both Pokémon were getting along fine, which is to say, they weren't getting along at all. Chris stuck close to West's side, keeping his trademark brave face on at all times as they forged deeper into the shrubbery. Apple, on the other hand, was lagging behind them by a few feet, plodding along at her own pace. They were far away enough that one was able to easily ignore the other, and it disheartened West a bit to see that they weren't even trying.

"Come on, guys," West urged. "You're part of a team now, and it's important that you learn how to work together! And to do that you have to socialize!"

Chris looked up at her with an aghast expression, as if she'd asked him to set fire to Petalburg Woods. When she looked back, Apple gave no sign that she'd even heard West. She was munching on a leaf idly, before looking over at West as she realized she was the recipient of a fiery glare.

"Chris, please?" West said, looking down at the Torchic pleadingly. "For me?"

With a long, drawn out sigh, the Torchic began meandering towards Apple, making it obvious with every step that this was not what he had in mind with this journey. West gave him an encouraging smile, and turned around to continue down the path.

The rest of the walk went quite a bit better from West's perspective. The two were relatively quiet, which meant they weren't fighting each other. That was good. But she could hear them communicating quietly. That meant that they were both still following her, and they were talking. Socializing! This was going to work!

* * *

"I don't know who you think you are," Chris said with a small growl. "But I'm the boss of this little group. Me. She chose me first, I'm the veteran around here."

"Really? I could have sworn that you were just ordered around by the girl we're obediently following," Apple said absently, her gaze directed at the canopy of trees above them.

Chris ruffled his feathers and narrowed his eyes. "I wasn't being ordered around!" he hissed. "She was asking me nicely and because I'm her best friend, I did what she asked to make her happy."

"Orrrr, you did what she asked because she's your master and you're her slave and there are consequences if you disobey her. I mean, I don't see you asking her to do anything," Apple responded. "If you two really are best friends, then there should be equal exchange. But there isn't. So you aren't."

"She listens to me."

"She doesn't understand either of us."

"She listens anyways!"

"What does it matter?" Apple looked at him with half-lidded eyes. "She's a human, we're Pokémon. She hears what she wants to hear."

"Stop trying to villainize her…!" Chris fumed.

Apple shrugged and went back to looking straight ahead of her. "I'm not. I'm just stating the facts."

"I hate you," he mumbled.

"Your sentiments are returned in kind," Apple replied in a sickly sweet voice.

* * *

Yes, West was absolutely sure they were getting along swell. But she was getting sidetracked. Having Chris and Apple get along could be done anywhere. She was here in the wild bush to find her target! She stopped walking, and closed her eyes. She took a few breaths to center, calm, and concentrate herself, then inhaled deeply through her nose to take in the scents of the forest.

The natural crisp scent of wind was the most prominent feature - a crisp yet harsh aroma that served somewhat like a wall blocking West from experiencing the other scents of the wood. But upon further concentration, she was able to penetrate the initial odour and enter into the true heart of the forest. The myriad of flora made themselves known almost immediately in a medley of muted musks, the individual scents muddled by the fact that they were all mixing in the same atmosphere. It was not an unpleasant scent, but the smells of the individual flowers did not orchestrate well. But flowers were not what she was going for. It was clear to her, however, that she wouldn't be able to find it through scent alone.

Another deep breath, and West focused on keeping herself quiet and still, to hear the world around her instead. Once again, the wind was the first sensation to greet her. She could hear the hushed whispering of Chris, a somewhat aggravated tone in his voice. She could hear rustling in the nearby bushes.

Her eyes snapped open and zeroed in on the sound. A flash of beige.

That was it.

Deep breath.

West crouched low to the ground, and began to make her way forward, laying her hands on the cool damp ground below her. She crept closer to the bush, being careful to keep as silent as possible. She was not entirely silent, but her efforts did seem to pay off, for whatever was in the bush did not notice her at all.

In one clean motion she dove forward and snatched up the Shroomish, holding the squirming Pokémon above her head victoriously. "Got it!"

The Shroomish obviously didn't like this sudden change in altitude, his stubby feet flailing in the air as it vocalized its discontent with the situation in the form of a wail. This alerted West to the fact that perhaps whipping the Pokémon upwards in a victory pose might not be the most humane thing to do. She gently set the Pokémon down, mumbling an apology.

Instantly the Shroomish began bouncing back and forth from foot to foot, glaring up at West with a challenging gaze. He rushed forward to West's legs, and rammed into them with his forehead. West let out a sharp cry as she staggered back, but the pain was alleviated somewhat by the fact that the Shroomish had fallen flat on his face, and was currently struggling to get up.

"Alright, Apple, it's up to you!" West said, turning towards the Wurmple.

Apple gave her a placid stare, before doing a sort of shrug and getting into a stance.

* * *

The Shroomish was barely able to right himself before he was rammed once again to the ground by Apple. This time, however, he used the momentum from the fall to jump back on his feet, giving the worm a flaming gaze in return.

"You want a piece of me, you cotton-eating glowstick?!" he called, bouncing from foot to foot. "Alright, I'll give you what you came for! Mach _Punch!_ " He rushed forward as fast as his little legs could carry him, before swinging his body to the left, ramming into Apple before she had time to react.

She laid on the ground, reeling from the attack. Then she began to laugh. "...You're lacking the proper equipment to punch, buddy," she grunted, getting to her feet. "That was just a boring vanilla tackle."

"That was a punch!" Shroomish retorted angrily. "I can take you easily! I eat bugs like you for breakfast!"

"Really?" Apple gave him an amused smile. "I remember eating a Shroomish just this morning."

"Wh-what?" his eyes went huge, and he took a step back.

Seeing an opportunity, Apple's grin widened, gaining a decidedly maniacal tone. "Oh, yes. The way that his bones crunched between my mandibles, the way that his flesh buckled oh-so-easily as it travelled down my oesophagus...it was simply _divine_. Speaking of which...I think it's time for l-"

Suddenly Apple found that she couldn't move forward. The trembling Shroomish in front of her exuded fear, and yet she couldn't advance. Upon a few more moments of inspection, she saw that the grass in front of her, and indeed the upper half of her body, was covered in some sort of yellow dust.

She looked back up at him with a piercing gaze. "...Did you really?"

"It happens when I'm scared!" he said, closing his eyes and ramming into her again with his trademark face-plant.

This time Apple was not so easily able to recover, her movements laborious and jarring from the restrictions the Stun Spore put on her. "I can't believe this…" she growled. Just as she got to her feet, she was once again knocked over by the Shroomish who was now obviously driven by fear. She looked back at West with a low glare, and the human called something to the Torchic.

"Hah! Looks like you need big brother to come in and save you, huh, Apple?" Chris gloated as he strutted towards her with his chest puffed out.

"Just shut up and snuff him out," she mumbled, resting her head on the ground as the Shroomish once again tripped over the worm in another attempt to smash her skull with his non-existent arms.

Chris watched him run back and forth over Apple a few times, tracing his movements. He casually laid an Ember attack down in his path, and upon stepping on it the Shroomish gave a shriek that sounded more shocked than pained.

"Owwww!" he yelped, jumping back. "Who did that?! Who put that there?!"

"Looking for me?" Chris said, posing as he stood off against the Grass-Type.

Shroomish looked at him and narrowed his eyes. "Looks like you two can't take ol' puncher one on one, huh? You have to double team to even stand a chance against me! Hah!"

"...Actually," Apple mumbled. "I'm just going to lie here and not do anything if that's okay. I don't feel like battling anymore. I'm, um, paralyzed."

"What?" Chris turned to face her. "You're just being lazy!"

"You say that until you get covered in yellow extract from this guy's innards."

"It's not LIKE that!" Shroomish defended himself in an aggravated tone.

"Well, whatever way it's like, we're here to do battle! En Gardevoir!"

Both Apple and Shroomish gave Chris a look of bewilderment, the latter dropping his battle stance.

"...What did you say?" Shroomish asked.

Chris instantly went stiff. Did he say something wrong, or bad? He just heard it on TV in the lab, during a superhero show! "E-en...en Gardevoir?"

Apple burst into laughter, beating at the ground with her foreleg. "Oh, Arceus, that has to be the absolute worst way to open up a battle I've ever heard!"

"W-what?! It's cool!" Chris said, red flushing to his cheeks.

"It's _dorky_! Not only are you trying to speak human, you're trying to speak foreign human! They don't even speak that language here!"

"...Why did you say Gardevoir? There's no Gardevoir here," Shroomish said lowly, looking around in a cautious manner as if a Gardevoir could jump out of nowhere and attack.

"It's a pun!" Chris huffed, stomping his foot. "It's cool! It's...gahh!" West had told him to attack, so he had no more time to defend his opener. He just ran towards the Shroomish, ready to strike.

The Shroomish gasped suddenly and jumped to the left. This reaction was early, though, and Chris was easily able to adjust himself and bring his beak down hard on Shroomish's squishy body. He looked down and noticed the yellow dust from before beginning to waft out from underneath the Pokémon so Chris quickly jumped up, planted his talons on top of Shroomish, and used him as a launching pad to jump away, clawing his face as he did so.

Shroomish gave a gasp of pain, before roaring in anger. "I'll show you! E-en Gardevoir, or whatever you said!" Baited, he rushed forwards out of his protective cloud of spores and tore for Chris at breakneck speeds. He tried to spit out an Ember to trip up the Shroomish, but to his surprise he jumped the fire with ease, doing a half-flip in the air and smashing his head into Chris's chest, sending the Torchic flying back and skidding across the ground with the Shroomish staying collided against him.

Chris was the first to recover and began batting at the Pokémon with his wings in a panicked manner, frantically trying to push him off before the Shroomish tried any more of his dusty attacks. Luckily he was successful, and pushed himself to his feet the moment Shroomish slid off of him. He followed this up with a talon scrape to the side of Shroomish's head, and a close-quarters Ember. The Shroomish was beginning to get worn down - that much was easy to see. But he wasn't giving up quite yet. Another headbutt brought Chris against the ground, and Shroomish pressed the hot ember attached to his forehead against Chris's belly.

He was used to fire, but the heat of the ember still seared his feathers a bit, and he cringed in pain as he once again began batting at the Grass-Type to edge him off. Shroomish would not be so easily dissuaded this time, however, and he quickly bit down on the Torchic's breast with round teeth, grinding them together to inflict more pain. Chris gave a cry composed of one part pain, two parts outrage from the somewhat immature display, and quickly pecked at him with ferocity until his grip was loosened. Chris threw him off, and was ready to lob another attack before West called at him to stop. Breathing heavily, Chris gave the Shroomish a triumphant smile. "...I...I win…" he mumbled.

"Barely," Apple called. "Against a Grass-Type."

"Shut up."

* * *

Two minutes later, West held the Poké Ball that contained her newly caught Shroomish in her hands. She was breathless. That was an unexpectedly tough battle, she thought. Apple had barely held her own against him, and he'd managed to land a couple of clever hits on Chris, too. She'd have to bring Apple up to speed a little more in terms of battling, but she was sure Shroomish would be a valuable asset to the team.

She heaved a sigh and slumped down against a tree. "...You battled really well," she said to the Poké Ball in her hands. She wasn't exactly sure whether the Shroomish could hear her in there or not, but she was pretty sure it'd be advantageous for Pokémon to be able to, so she said it anyways. And if not, hey, it was like a dramatic closure to the battle, in a cool way.

"Good job out there, guys," she said, putting the Poké Ball down, and ruffling through her bag for some restorative measure for Apple's paralysis. Retracting from the bag with her prize in hand, she made her way to the Wurmple, and quickly applied the spray, neutralizing the dust. With her sleeve, she carefully began dusting away the powder until Apple was free of the majority of the spores. The rest of them would be dispersed with time and movement.

"There you go," she said, gently patting Apple's back. "You did really well. Thank you!"

She heard an indignant chirp from behind her, and she turned around to face Chris, who was giving her a rather nasty look.

"Alright, alright, you did great too, Chris," she said with a smirk, rolling her eyes. "You did wear him down the rest of the way. I couldn't have done this without you."

She gave the proud Torchic a few pats on the head and returned to her bag, giving a glance to the spray bottle in her hands. The paralysis heal was running pretty low. She'd have to get it refilled at Rustboro when they arrived. It was then that she realized with a sudden pang to the head that even after she and East got out of Petalburg Woods, they'd still have all of Route 104 to get through. She looked back at her exhausted Pokémon and frowned. They wouldn't be able to take much more battling. Well, Chris might, but for now, Apple was out of commission. Shroomish doubly so - he was still pretty weak from the battle.

Speaking of which, she still had to see what kind of Pokémon he was. That, and what to name him. She wasn't simply going to let him be addressed as 'Shroomish'. She pulled out her Pokédex and let it analyze the Poké Ball, poring over the data it gave her.

Apparently the Shroomish had something she recognized as Effect Spore from the competitive battling shows she watched on television from time to time. This specific Shroomish had a defense mechanism that could spread spores on Pokémon that got too close, like he had with Apple. These spores randomly cause a status effect, like poison, drowsiness, or paralysis. She smiled a little as she read this. It sounded like it'd be pretty useful in something like a gym battle, even against an unfavourable type matchup.

She put away her Pokédex and picked up the ball again, carefully looking it over as she contemplated a name.

* * *

"Alright, Card, I think that's enough," East said, calling the Ralts off of the Slakoth that was simply hanging from a tree. The Normal-Type didn't look any worse for the wear from the barrage of attacks Cardinal had launched upon it. Though, East supposed, that could possibly be because it looked pretty much half-dead when they encountered it in the first place.

Maybe it had already fainted. There was no real way to tell.

He pulled out his Pokédex and looked at Cardinal's stats. She was doing pretty well, making good progress. Though he wasn't entirely a fan of the way it split all of the Pokémon's skills into six categories. A creature capable of rending someone's psyche into a perpetually confused state should not have their strengths and weaknesses divided into weird groups like Sp. Def., whatever that means. He was much better at observing for himself how terrifyingly powerful Cardinal was becoming.

"East!" His train of thought was interrupted by West's voice ringing through the forest. "Where are you?! Helloooo?"

"Over here, by the exit," he called. He didn't want her getting lost forever in the Petalburg Woods. People tended not to accept your excuses when you had someone's figurative blood on your hands.

He heard the sound of her rushing towards him. From the tone of the noises he could tell that she was proud of something, and from that he deduced that the next thing he was about to hear would have a record-breaking amount of decibles.

"East!" West yelled in excitement as soon as they gained a line of sight between each other. "I caught a new Pokémon!"

"...Is it the one you wanted?" East said.

"Yeah!" She threw the Pokéball against the ground. "Say hello to Dandy!"

A Shroomish materialized from the ball and instantly got into a fighting stance. He locked eyes with Cardinal, and without warning began to charge towards her. She gave a shriek and hid behind East's legs. West quickly scooped up Dandy before he could try anything, however.

"Hey, hey, Dan, cool it!" West said, laying a hand on the top of his head. "They're friends, we aren't battling them. This is East and Cardinal!" She frowned a bit, and looked at East with a quizzical expression. "Where's Cheshire?"

East gave a scoff. "He got tired of training after he got too strong. He's sitting up in a branch over there." He heard a sudden _thunk_ as something hit his back. He grumbled a bit and wiped the berry juice off of his shirt. "He thinks he's hilarious."

West giggled a little at the look. "He has nice aim."

"You named him Dandy?" East raised an eyebrow. "Why? It seems like a weird name."

"Oh, well," West looked down at Dandy in her arms. "He has Effect Spore as an ability, and I thought that spores sort of spread out in the air, kind of like dandelions. So I called him Dandy. Dan for short!"

East contemplated this for a moment. "Better than what I would have named him."

"What would you have named him?"

"Shroomish."

West took a second, then laughed. "Hey, yeah, that is better!" After nobody said anything further on the subject, West changed it. "So how did your training go? Good?"

"About as good as they're going to get here," East said. "These Pokémon aren't exactly the most advanced thing you're going to see on your travels." He jerked his head towards the Slakoth.

"Hey, cool!" West breathed, rushing up to examine the Pokémon closer. "Aren't you gonna catch it? It looks pretty weak."

"Catch it?" East felt his gag reflex triggering from the mere thought. "Why would I ever want to catch it?"

"To use it for battle, silly," West giggled. "Slaking is really powerful! He's a tank!"

"Slaking is the worst Pokémon in existence and I will oppose you to no end if you say otherwise."

West brought her hands up in a defensive position. "Alright, alright, fair enough! But, uh...I have bad news."

"What?"

"We still have the rest of Route 104 to go through before we get to Rustboro."

East let out a long sigh. "Well, that's just wonderful." He looked back at the exit to the woods. "Well, I guess there's no way to get around it. Let's just keep going."

He signaled for Cheshire to get down from the tree and follow him. Thankfully, he obeyed. East wasn't sure what he would have done had Cheshire put up more resistance. He might have had to use the Pokéball, and he was pretty sure that if he were a Pokémon and he was crammed into a ball about the size of a fist, he would hate the person that put him in there. So West set down Dandy, and they walked out of the forest.

The entire time, the only thought that went through East's mind was that he was almost done.


End file.
